Consequences
by littlecreek86
Summary: Yucky title(sigh! Anyway,Ron persuades Harry to go on a blind date which puts our hero in a position he'd rather not be in(A slightly better summary inside)Please review and more importantly, ignore all titles!
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to J.K.Rowling (bless her!). The storyline and characters you don't recognize belong to me(unless, without my knowledge there is someone out there who thinks exactly as I do)

**Author's note**: First of all, this is my very first fanfic. I'm essentially a H/Hr shipper but just this once this is going to involve R/Hr(but there's no mush-my apologies to R/hr fans) Please review. Flames are okay, I guess, but I don't think I could stand infernos! (Be humane)

**Summary:** Ron(who's all set to marry hermione)persuades Harry to go on a blind date. The result? Harry's caught in a relationship which comes at a time of tension and anxiety(never a good time if you ask me),a time when Voldemort's retreated for the time being but could make a full come-back at any moment.(**A.N**:Aaaarrgh! I hate writing summaries.I'd makea hopeless salesperson!)

Chapter 1: **Trapped**

"_No, _Ron!"

"Come on, Harry, it'll be fun. Don't glare- see, you haven't gone on a date for years…"

The speaker trailed off, seeing that the other's mood wasn't improving. (Perhaps it would be a good time for the narrator to turn up now and make some introductions).

The one called Ron was a very tall, well-built young man with a head that looked like it was on fire( only because that was the colour of his hair) and a face that had its generous share of freckles.

And on that fine morning in the flat he shared with his best friend, he was on an important mission.

He was trying to get said best friend to go on a blind date. No mean task that, especially considering Harry's disastrous dating history and his natural reticence, not to mention his intense dislike for the limelight.

Connelly's had advertised their new dating service in _The Daily Prophet_ and Ron, being Ron, would have loved to have tried it out himself but for the fact that he was engaged to be married. Instead he'd have to settle for living vicariously through Harry…

At that point in the conversation (where the narrator intervened) there was a loud 'pop' that signaled the arrival of a pretty, brown-haired young witch who greeted them with a cheerful "Hi Handsome! Oh, honestly Ron," (as Ron had raised his hand to ruffle his hair in acknowledgement) "I meant Harry, of course, not you" and then proceeded to contradict her words by warmly kissing the redhead. Her actions obviously belied her agitated mental condition for, presently she said, "Ron, your mum's going crazy…you're not going to believe this, but I think the entire wizarding world's somehow landed on our guest list. The wedding's going to be a-a disaster! And…"

"Relax, Hermione, relax. Daaarling! Ours is going to be The Wedding of The Century," said Ron dramatically, raising his hands to outline an imaginary banner. "And why not? The Famous Ron Weasley weds The Famous Hermione Granger, the best man being The Very Famous Harry Potter…"

"Ron!" chided Hermione, but the laughter in her cinnamon eyes was unmistakeable. Then seeing Harry's rather glum expression, she sobered down. "What's the matter Harry? You're not worrying about the security during the wedding, are you?"

Harry ran a weary hand through his messy, jet-black hair before answering. "No, I've got all that covered. The thing is, I've had a rather trying morning, what with your fiancé trying to get me to go on a blind date, for Merlin's sake!"

Ron had the grace to look quite sheepish, thought Harry, but that glint in his eye betrayed his real thoughts on the subject.

"Hmmm…that's really not a bad idea at all, Harry," said Hermione slowly.

"_What_!" yelped a horrified Harry. (He'd expected to jump to his defence and lambast Ron for being an insensitive prat. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Ron grinning triumphantly. He should've guessed that even a sensible Hermione could not escape Ron's maddening influence.) No wonder she's marrying him, he thought gloomily.

"But…b-but…I can't go on a blind date! The very idea is ridiculous! For all you know, the girl will probably ask me for an autograph and will gloat for the rest of her life that….Aaaargghhh! Stop smirking, you two! I won't go on a blind date, full stop. And I have to be these days, you know better than anyone else…"

"Tell me something, Harry," said Hermione, pointedly ignoring Harry's last few remarks. "All those girls you've been with in the past- did _they_ like you for you? No. So, it wouldn't hurt to go on a date with someone you didn't know, now would it? You've nothing to lose. And there is that element of surprise…" Hermione was getting a very determined tilt to her chin, one that Harry mistrusted immediately. It suddenly occurred to him that he was completely outnumbered two-to-one in the matter.

"You're going on this blind date thing, Harry, and that's that. And if you refuse, I'll set you up with Fiona Grant," Hermione grinned wickedly and continued, "All curves, oozes sex appeal and has the brain of a flobberworm-_just_ your type Harry…"

Harry looked up, horrorstruck, at both his best friends (So much for friendship, he thought bitterly) who had crossed their arms and now looked at him with amused but determined expressions.

"Fine…fine, you win. I have no control over my love-life whatsoever," muttered Harry brokenly.

"Oh stop being such a drama queen, Harry," said Hermione briskly. "All you have to do is owl in your profile and requirements to the address given in the_ Prophet_…what is it now, Ron?" For Ron had interrupted with a discreet cough.

"Erm, actually I already sent it, Harry. I asked for a weekend date, you know, when you're relatively free. And yeah, payment's only after they find you a match," said Ron with an apologetic (though he didn't mean it) grin.

Harry slumped dejectedly into the sofa. "Great. Thanks a lot, Ron."

Ron ignored the sarcasm and turned to Hermione, winking slyly. "I think we should prepare for a double wedding, love. And in my speech I shall say that 'twas I, Ronald Weasley, who brought the love-birds together, who ensured that Harry found the 'woman of his dreams'!"

Hermione rolled her eyes in mock-exasperation. "Remind me again, Ron, why I agreed to marry you."

" 'Cos you're completely captivated by my charms and are madly, hopelessly, utterly in love with me?"

"It's because I'm a martyr and I don't want any other witch to suffer your presence in their lives."

Harry snorted, but Ron grinned his most charming, lopsided grin. "See, I told you she was possessive!" He looked at Hermione and bowed. "Let us proceed towards The Burrow, shall we, m'lady and see what dear old mum's upto? Coming, Harry?"

"Uh no, you two go ahead and have fun. I'll just sit here and contemplate my miserable existence…"

Ron and Hermione disapparated in a gale of laughter, leaving a Harry who stared apprehensively into space.

**A.N**: Poor Harry!….Next chapter (The Perfect Match) is also quite interesting. I'll probably need some help on this blind date process-in my country we don't have such things, so suggestions are welcome.Oh, and I _hate_ the title, I'm still working on it...


	2. The Perfect Match

**A.N:** Time for author to swipe away tears of happiness at the reviews and get down to the pleasant task of replying to reviewers. May I present-

**The Brainbox: **My very first reviewer! Thankyouthankyouthankyou(See, I _am_ grateful)! As for the fluff, maybe you could help me out when I decide to get to it (I might mess it up with clichés or somethin') Anyway, since you asked, I will develop R/Hr further(though that wasn't my plan earlier) It will add substance to the storyline

**123315: **Hey, thanks! Glad you think they're 'in character'(I hope I can keep it up). As for Harry/Cho…ermmm…all I can say is don't kill me and don't stop reading and reviewin'!

**Cracker Jack**: Thankyou.

**yo-yo55d: **This chapter'll tell you what you need to know. Hope you like it!

**GoogleCorelli: **Glad you thought so, thanks!

Now author needs to 1) Stop grinning like an idiot

2) Deflate head a bit

Righto! On with the story….

Chapter 2: The Perfect Match 

" 'Messrs. Fred and George Weasley to provide entertainment at the Weasley-Granger wedding'," read Sheena Connelly, her green eyes dancing merrily. "That should be interesting, right Morgan?"

She looked up at her flat-mate and best friend whose auburn hair was piled into a messy bun and who looked thoroughly disgruntled. The gray eyes flashed a warning that read 'Do not mess with me. I am _not_ a morning person.'

It was quite clear that Sheena was going to disregard the warning.

"It's 7.00 a.m., you know, not at all some unearthly hour in the morning. You could at least show some courtesy and answer me when I talk to you."

"My mornings _never _begin earlier than 9 a.m.," retorted Morgan grumpily, feeling only slightly ashamed and ignoring Sheena's exasperated clicking of her tongue. "And as for all that nonsensical wedding gossip-I couldn't care less if Dumbledore decided to be the bridesmaid…ah! Coffee!" She broke off what might have become a full-blown rant when her friend handed her the steaming mug with a grin. Sheena knew very well Morgan's addiction for the 'disgusting liquid' as she herself called it. And Morgan would swear on anything that with 'caffeine coursing through her capillaries' she could tackle even a chimera at dawn. (This was a complete exaggeration, obviously, since Morgan didn't even know what dawn was…)

A comfortable silence pervaded as Morgan sipped her coffee with evident appreciation and Sheena continued to ponder on the latest news.

"I still can't believe there's going to be such a high-profile wedding at this time. I mean, won't it give You-Know-Who a perfect opportunity to make a comeback, or something?"

"_Or something,"_ mimicked Morgan, now feeling human enough after her dose of coffee. "Sheen, obviously Voldemort (what's that funny noise? Oh, it's you gasping, Sheena!)-Voldemort is not dumb. Considering the fact that the last war ended in a stalemate, he'll probably be trying to gather his wits about him, biding his time strengthening his following and casting about for a stronger weapon to destroy Potter and Co. He is definitely not going to gatecrash on The Wedding and Potter and Co. are definitely not going to lay a red carpet for his arrival. In short, don't worry."

The slightly ironic tone with which Morgan said her piece made Sheena look at her with ill-concealed admiration.

"How _can _you talk like that, Morgan Finley?"

"Like what?"

"Like as though you're not at all afraid…"

"Yeah? Actually, I _am_ scared deep down, if you didn't know. Last time, we were in Hogwarts, well protected from the horrors of battle. You didn't lose any of your dear ones, I didn't have any to lose. We couldn't relate to all that fear even though we heard the stories everyday. The war ended abruptly 'cos the Big Bad One realized he wasn't all that well prepared and went into hiding as suddenly as he came out of it. But the next time (which could be any time) we'll be more vulnerable even if we're older…"

Silence.

"Hey, Sheena! That dating service of yours is never going to click, is it? Those profiles you've got so far have included some extremely unprepossessing middle-aged wizards who, well I won't go further. You'll end up getting a rep for being some sleazy service, you know…" Morgan changed the subject, admittedly in an abrupt way, but succeeded in getting her pal to rise to the bait.

"Very funny, Finley, and thanks for all the encouragement. But I'm sure that Connelly's will be a success, I can feel it in my bones." Sheena tossed her blonde curls to emphasise her point and then gave Morgan her coldest glance. "Maybe _you_ should try it, you'll see!"

"Seeing _is_ believing, Connelly, but no thanks. When you get the profile of a young wizard who's genuine and is looking for a girl with brains and not just a body, you may make me his match or date or whatever. Which is, of course, going to be never. End of story. I shall now take a relaxing bath, then trot down to your mother's bakery to do my job."

"I've said it before but I'm saying it again. You're wasted in that job, dearie," said Sheena.

"Uh-huh. The reply to _that_ is my usual 'nope'. _I_ love cooking and baking, which _you_ say does not go with my personality. However, it seems I'm perfect for the job-your mum says so herself. I mean, it's even better since she named me an Honorary Connelly."

Sheena grimaced. "Do you have to remind me? '_At least someone in the family knows what a kitchen looks like_' Merlin! It's bad enough when mum does it. Now off with you."

She watched Morgan's laughing, retreating figure gloomily. She replayed the earlier parts of their conversation. The dating service had been a gamble, really-a take-off on her natural match-making instincts which she'd discovered in her Hogwarts days. Was it really going to fail like Morgan had implied? But then, Morgan had never really been very sympathetic towards what she called 'Sheena's ridiculous romantic ideas'. Shaking her head, and feeling oddly optimistic she gathered her things (after setting aside the _Prophet_ reluctantly) and disapparated to her tiny office.

Opening the window wide to let in the light and fresh air, Sheena turned to tackle the small pile of mail on her desk. A couple of profiles, some bills and…._profiles_! Quickly, she glanced through them. The first was a middle-aged witch asking for..blah, blah, blah…fine, she'd file it away.(She ignored the annoying voice at the back of her head that sounded uncannily like Morgan sniggering). The second profile was…her mouth had no other option but to fall open.

Something clunked into place in Sheena's brain. She knew she had to do two things now.

Check with mum if there was any Seer blood in the family.

Tell Morgan 'Honorary Connelly' Finley was about to go on the date of her life.

The smile on Sheena's face could have killed a boggart…

"Ron?"

"Hmmm?"

"RON!"

"I'm listening, Hermy! I meant 'hmmm?' as in a 'go on, I'm listening' sort of 'hmmm'…" said Ron defensively. Nothing of that sort, of course, when he'd been daydreaming that he was teaching a little red-haired, brown-eyed version of himself how to fly. Hermione, of course, stood below looking up anxiously at her son and husband and….

"Ronald Weasley, if you don't stop daydreaming and start listening to me this instant, I'll marry Harry!" said Hermione crossly.

"I was thinking about you, Hermy," whined Ron, looking hurt.

"Stop calling me 'Hermy'. And don't be silly," said Hermione, trying to be brusque but feeling all warm inside. He is so charming, she thought before shaking her head and coming to the point she had wanted to make. "Ron, do you think we did the right thing, forcing Harry to go on this blind date thing?" She bit her lip worriedly.

" 'Mione, you were all for the idea back there. Of course, we're doing the right thing. Harry needs a break and, well, he needs some female company. So, as his best pal, it is my duty to see he gets it. And that's that."

"But…" began Hermione, then stopped when Ron treated her to his trademark lift of the eyebrow. "Oh well, I suppose you're right. I just don't want him to be hurt in anyway, that's all."

"Stop being such a worry-wart. Harry can take care of himself. Gosh! I've just said something that makes sense. Don't I get rewarded for it?" Ron gave Hermione a pleading look. "And I've been _so _helpful this morning, dealing with mum and everything."

"Yes, I suppose agreeing with whatever your mum said was your way of _dealing_ with her," said Hermione, and then relented. "Come here, you dolt," she said softly, throwing her arms around him.

"What do you want from me?" said Ron, teasingly, savoring the feel of his fiancée in his arms.

"Oh shut up and kiss me!"

**A.N**: That was a last minute R/Hr scene (phew!) Anyway, hope you all liked it.(This means 'Review,please') Keep reading. I actually have final exams comin' up next week, but I'll try and find time to update. And, Morgan Finley is much more interesting than you think….


	3. To date or not to date?

**A.N:** I'm having a lot of fun writing this fic. This chapter's dedicated to Alex (The Brainbox), my 'addicted reviewer'. Thanks for your support and encouragement!

**Chapter 3: To date or not to date?**

This was the last straw. No, this was the _bloody_ last straw. He must've been completely out of his mind to have ever yielded to this. He felt like a-a showpiece, he felt cheapened.

Harry Potter was not a happy man. His week hadn't started out badly (except for Ron springing that unpleasant 'Let's get Harry a date' plan on him early in the morning). Back at work, he had rechecked security plans for the wedding-they were flawless. He had managed to get quite a bit of paperwork done-it had been unstressful. His daily combat training had gone on fine-it had been exhilarating. In short, his Monday had been thankfully uneventful.

His mood which had been a rather nasty shade of blue-black, had lightened quite considerably as the day progressed. In fact, Harry was feeling decidedly cheerful, optimistic that the dating service would take years to find a woman to suit the requirements that Ron said he'd mentioned.

Clearly, there wasn't a drop of Seer blood in Harry's veins.

He returned home to be greeted by a tawny owl that hooted disapprovingly at him (he supposed it must've been waiting for quite some time). The feathered messenger took off the minute he retrieved the sealed parchment that bore his name on top. He slit it open with his wand and read it with an increasingly sinking feeling.

_Dear Mr. Potter_ (ran the letter)

Thank you for having placed your trust in Connelly's Dating Service! We hope to live up to your expectations and hope you will be satisfied with our services.

_Your profile stated that your preference for a date would have to be, amongst other things, female, reasonably good-looking, with a good sense of humour, intelligent and an interesting conversationalist._

_It is our pleasure to inform you that we have indeed located such a person. Her name and address will be revealed to you when you send in your confirmation._

_We normally would charge a sum of 20 galleons but are willing to slash rates to 15 galleons for our very first successful match. _

_We hope you have a wonderful time!_

_Yours sincerely_

_Sheena Connelly_

_Manager_

_Connelly's Dating Service_

"Harry!" called Ron, as he apparated into their flat later that night and strode into the dining room. "Oy, mate! Guess what? Hermione finally…Harry?"

Ron stopped short when he saw Harry glowering in a disturbing fashion at him.

"Er…okay…sorry. I didn't mean to finish the entire shepherd's pie, I should've left you some…"

Harry's expression had become unmistakably murderous.

_What did I do_, thought Ron wildly. That expression was making him feel very nervous indeed. _Courage, Ronald, courage _he told himself. "Mind telling me what's matter, Harry" said Ron aloud.

"I'll tell you what's the matter. Read _this_," spat Harry, shoving a bit of parchment at Ron who took it, feeling completely bewildered. He read it through, his expression becoming happier and happier while Harry spiraled into depression. If he hadn't known it was Ron standing in front of him, he would've thought a dementor was attacking him.

"Harry, this is great! See, I _told_ you it would be all right. They were really quick, weren't they…Oh, I get it. _You_ are unhappy because you think they'll probably publicise the whole thing and what not. Well, you're wrong. They've advertised 'complete privacy', Harry, and you wouldn't know about that 'cos you didn't bother reading the advertisement when I showed it to you. You know what I think? I think you should go for it. But if you decide not to, then…fine! If you die an old, crabby bachelor, don't blame_ me_. I slave and slog to get you a date so you can lighten up a bit and all I get is glares and glowers in return. Fine! It's _your_ funeral. Do what you like, see if I care!"

Ron was breathing heavily and his ears had turned red at the end of this diatribe.

"Did you just make the longest speech of your life?" asked Harry, amused despite himself, despite the situation. Ron looked away in reply, something that told Harry that the former was really annoyed. Harry himself was far from feeling like kissing Ron's forehead. But he was thinking over what his best friend had just told him and suddenly felt ashamed.

Here was his pal trying to show he cared, and Harry was doing all he could to make things difficult. It was only a date, after all, not some unwanted marriage contract or something. It really was up to him to enjoy himself, to make things more bearable. He looked up from his musing to find that Ron had gone from the room, most probably to his own bedroom.

"Ron, it's me," said Harry, knocking at Ron's door a moment later. "I've, um, decided to give this thing a try, just thought you'd want to know."

The door opened and a slightly mollified Ron stuck his head out.

"Really?"

"Yes, yes, yes," said Harry slowly and clearly, clenching his fist as if to summon more patience.

"Great! Ha! I knew you would realize the truth of my wise words. What the hell did I say, anyway? Doesn't matter, _you're going on a date_! Harry, bachelorhood is great and all, but there's nothing in the world like marrying the woman you love and settling down to a home of your own. You see…"

Ron has started on his current pet subject and there was no stopping him when he was in full flow.

Harry groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long night…

…………………………………………………………………………………………

" YOU _WHAT_?"

"I just found you the perfect match. You're just what he's looking for. And this is going to be simply marvelous," said Sheena smugly. She had a reason to be smug. It was not often that someone could shock Morgan Finley into gibbering idiotically, like she'd just done. But then she really couldn't resist. Not after their morning conversation.

Morgan hadn't expected this bombshell. Sheena was joking-she _had_ to be. But the expression on her friend's face told her otherwise. She stopped blabbering and took hold of herself.

"I _don't_ believe this. I didn't mean what I said this morning, I was only kidding," pleaded Morgan, but knew it was useless. She really should've watched what she was saying. But no, she had to go and shoot off her mouth and _this_ was the result. A date with an unknown entity.

"What's his name? Tell me that at least," asked Morgan, slowly resigning herself stoically to her fate.

"No, can't, sorry!" replied Sheena, laughing at her friend who had just stuck her tongue out at her.

"So _he_ knows my name and where I live and everything, but I don't know a single thing about him. How fair is that?"

"It would spoil the fun, dearie, and anyway, you'll know on Saturday when he gets here to pick you up."

"Great. Brilliant. What if I just ran away before that?"

"You wouldn't," said Sheena simply. " For one, your curiosity has been piqued and you won't rest until it's satisfied. Two, you won't let me down, and that I'm sure of."

"Darn it! You know me too well, Sheen," said Morgan pounding the cushion beside her in mock-frustration.

"Ha Ha! Cheer up, Morgan. Trust me on this one-you'll be really bowled over," said Sheena, regretting the words immediately the moment she'd said them. Now she'd have to endure four whole days of Morgan's constant badgering as to who could be good enough to bowl _her_ over.

But it would be worth it, especially if things worked out well, thought Sheena, feeling happier than she had all day.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Hermione Granger put away the shopping list she'd been perusing and sighed. She'd had a long day and she really needed Ron more than anything at this time. But it was late and besides, she didn't want to show that she was too dependent on Ron to cheer her up whenever she felt low.

RIINNGG! The doorbell startled her out of her reverie. Who could it be, at this hour? It couldn't be Ron-he could just apparate in. Or maybe he just wanted to surprise her. Grinning, she ran to the door and pulled it open without thinking.

"Hello, Hermione. It's been a long time," said the visitor, smiling at her.

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. I'm dreaming, she thought.

"Viktor?"

**A.N:** (Laughs evilly) Who saw _that_ coming? What could Krum's arrival mean for Hermione (and Ron, of course). What's gonna happen to Harry and Morgan?

Next chapter (dubbed 'The Date' for now) will be more interesting than this one which was boring, but necessary. Don't forget to review!


	4. Nightmare

**A.N:** Yay! 10 reviews! Anyway, a humungous thank you to all those who took time to read and review this tale.

**Cassandra Cheney-**Glad you decided to make that exception! Thanks!

**GoogleCorelli- **I'm 'fraid you'll have to wait till Chapter 5 to find out…please don't stop readin'!

**Elphie73-** I'm flattered! And I'll do my best when it comes to updating…

**Penelope-Fodavk- **Hey, thanks! Glad you like the Ron/Hermione bit!

**angelfromhell29- **Thank you soooo much! Anyway, things will look up for Harry- don't worry….

I love reviews, they fuel my writing spirit and make me update faster….

**Chapter 4: Nightmare**

"Ron, Viktor is here…"

"What the heck is _he _doing in England?" asked Ron very calmly. "And why the bloody hell did he come to your place late at night?"

"H-he's playing in the Federation Cup and he thought he'd look me up," said Hermione lamely.

"He thought he'd look you up late at night?" asked Ron coldly.

"Ron, he didn't have anywhere else to go…"

"Oh, I'm _sure_ he didn't," snorted Ron. "And so you decided to let him spend the night with you?"

Hermione winced. "Why, may I ask, are you harping on the word 'night'?"

"You wouldn't have noticed that if your conscience was clear…"

"Ron, that's out of order," said Hermione angrily. "You're being ridiculous!"

Ron's ears turned red. " So I'm ridiculous, am I, while _Vicky_ is everything I'm not."

"Ron…"

"_No, _Hermione! You know, I don't think we should go ahead with the wedding, after all."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Ron turned to storm out of the room, and Viktor came into view, pointing his wand at the former's back.

"_Avada Kedavra"_

"RON! NOOOOOO!"

Hermione sat up bolt upright, her heart thudding painfully, beads of perspiration pouring down her face. _It was a nightmare_, she told herself. _Ron's alive and Viktor would never…Viktor is here! Omigosh, Viktor Krum, internationally acclaimed quidditch player, is, at this very moment, asleep in the spare bedroom of my humble flat._

Hermione then did what she did best. She analysed the situation at hand.

Okay, Viktor Krum, whom I met in the fourth year and with whom I went to the Yule Ball, is here. Viktor was trying to get me to be his girlfriend and I was trying to get him to be my pen pal. He was gracious enough to accept the situation. So far so good. Five years later, I decide to marry one Ronald Weasley whom I love and who has been, is and always will be, insanely jealous and suspicious of my connections with Krum.

_Summary of Situation: Complicated, owing to arrival of V.K. at night and will become _extremely _complicated when R.W. arrives here early in the morning, correction, in three hours, and sees V.K._

_Plan of Action: No other choice but to go over to Ron right now and explain situation (not above situation, but actual situation)._

_Did I say 'situation' too many times? _(**A.N: Yes, you did, but it doesn't matter 'cos your brain isn't, understandably, working very well)**

Hermione got out of bed and took a sip of water, casting her mind back to her conversation with Viktor the night before. He had said that he wanted to tell her something, but she hadn't let him get a word in, fearing the worst. Instead she had suggested that they put off the talk for another time when he wasn't travel-weary and she wasn't brain-fogged with sleep. _That was a close shave _thought Hermione._ I'd hate to hear any embarrassing out-pourings of love from a person I consider a good friend. _

Hermione shuddered and then pulled on her robes as quickly as possible. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she apparated into Ron Weasley's bedroom at 5.32 in the morning.

………………………………………………………………………………

"Traitor…blood traitor…" hissed the hooded and cloaked figure. Join us and you will go unharmed."

" _If I join you…**that** will be treachery. I'll never betray my friends, never!" Gray eyes shone with defiance._

"_Just like Sirius Black…very well, you will pay for this…the Dark Lord will destroy your worthless friends…"_

Morgan's eyes snapped open. She stared into the darkness, feeling extremely uneasy and trying to remember why she felt so discomfited. A hood…betrayal…pay…destroy…the details of her recent nightmare were already sketchy in her utterly disoriented mind. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep again, dreaming this time of having dinner with a handsome stranger…

When morning came, Morgan had no idea what she'd dreamt of during the night…

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

"What the heck is _he _doing in England?" asked Ron very calmly.

This was not an auspicious beginning at all. First of all, it hadn't been easy waking Ron up. Secondly, it was quite sometime before Hermione could allay Ron's fears that everything was all right (He was under the wild impression that Voldemort had attacked her). And now, their conversation was sounding like the recording of her nightmare. Not an auspicious beginning.

"He's playing in the Federation Cup and he thought he'd look me up," said Hermione, sounding as lame as she had done in her dream.

"That's what _he_ says," said Ron, frowning at his fiancée. " What did he want? Doesn't he know you're a woman who's about to be married? Is he going to confess his hidden, though obvious, feelings for you?"

Hermione closed her eyes. This was _worse_ than her nightmare.

"He's just a friend, Ron. I don't think you'd be this upset if it were Harry instead of Viktor."

"That's because I _know_ that Harry's love for you is purely brotherly. I don't think Vicky's feelings for you can be classified as _brotherly_," said Ron darkly.

"Are you saying that you don't trust me?" asked Hermione, feeling something cold go down her spine.

"No, I'm saying I don't trust _him,_" said Ron simply. "And if you ask me, I think I should go over to your place right now and confront him."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Ron."

"Oh, and why not?"

"Because I can handle anything he has to say myself. I don't need you to defend me or our relationship or anything."

"You don't _need _me?"

"It's not like that, Ron. Oh, this is _so_ frustrating! Why can't you just trust me on this? It's high time you started believing in _us_, Ron, and if you can't, well, I just don't know…" Hermione stared at Ron, trying to read his expression. His ears were red (never a good sign) and she could see that he was trying not to lose it and start yelling at the top of his voice.

"Fine," he said after a long, wounded silence. "You know, I think I'll just take a walk. You can handle the shopping for today as well, I suppose, seeing I'm not really needed."

And before she could say anything, he summoned his cloak and walked out of his room, and then slammed his way out of the front door.

"What, in the name of Merlin, is going on here?" asked a voice behind her.

Hermione turned and focused her tear-filled eyes on a disheveled Harry.

"Wha-Hermione?" His tone had become gentle. "Did you and Ron just fight?"

Hermione sniffled in reply and then launched herself into Harry's arms, sobbing heartrendingly.

Harry held her awkwardly, waiting patiently for her to pull herself together. Hermione drew back after a while, looking miserable.

"I'm s-sorry, Harry, but everything is such a mess…"

"Want to tell me about it?"

"No…I mean, yes. Okay, it's like this…"

Harry listened intently as Hermione told him of her troubles. Then when she'd finished, he conjured a handkerchief and handed it to her. She took it with a small 'thanks' and blew her nose with a sound like a small foghorn.

"You know, I think you're right when you say you can handle whatever Viktor has to say to you. But to do Ron justice… Hermione-you have to see that he is a bit insecure, poor guy. I won't say anything more, I'm sure you two'll work it out between you. Now, just wash your face and go back and talk to Viktor first, then go after Ron."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks Harry. It feels weird to have you showering advice on me, when you'd always come to me for 'girl advice'!"

"I see you're quite all right now," said Harry dryly and then chuckled.

"What?" asked Hermione indignantly.

"Well, I just feel sorry for Krum, you know, if he confesses his _love_ for you. He's just not in the picture at all, when I look at how you just bawled your heart out because you and Ron had a lovers' tiff!"

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Harry (who was now grinning in a horrible, Cheshire cat-like way) and disapparated, hoping desperately that Harry would be right, that she and Ron would be okay after all.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

" Vell, it's like this, Hermione," said Krum, looking abashed. " I know you and Ron are getting married, so I thought I could tell you…" He broke off, looking very red in the face and uncharacteristically hesitant.

"Tell me what, Viktor?" asked Hermione, willing herself to keep calm and not lose her poise by screaming 'I love Ron, not you' over and over again.

"I'm…I mean, I am interested in Ginerva Veasley and I think she likes me as vell. But I'm, what do you say, not sure how her family will take it. I vas vondering if you would help…"Krum looked positively mortified now.

It took some moments before Hermione processed what Krum had been saying.

"Y-you mean, you're in love with Ginny Weasley? H-how? I mean, when? I mean…" she trailed off, feeling at a loss as to what to say.

"You see, she plays for Chudley Cannons, no? I met her at the Annual Quidditch Associations' Ball last year. Ve got along very vell together."

"Th-that's wonderful, Viktor," said Hermione, still in shock. But the next moment she was flooded with a feeling of relief, which quickly changed to one of apprehension.

_What on earth am I going to tell Ron?_

……………..

**A.N: **God, this chapter was a real nightmare. I'm sooo sorry folks, but it just kept intruding and pushing 'The Date' down the line. (I was _helpless_, I swear…) Anyway, I hope I didn't murder Krum's accent. This was, in fact, an impromptu chapter because the last scene of Chapter 3 surprised even me! (And I had to wrap up that loose end). I solemnly swear to make the next chapter more likeable. Till then, review and bring in any suggestions you may have. (Oh no, what have I _done_…Viktor and _Ginny_? I'm not going to go any further than mentions of their relationship, I swear)


	5. The Date

**Author's note**: I'd like to have written something screamingly funny here, but that part of my brain that controls my sense of humour seems to have congealed (Partly because of exam tension and partly because it is a very late hour of the night at this moment)

To my reviewers- thank you for taking the trouble to review-it means a lot to me.

**Elphie73: **Wow! You're really instilling some confidence in me-thanks!

**Alex: **You're the best!

**Kateya:** I'll try my best. Keep reading and reviewing! And thanks for those encouraging words.

**tonksss: **Hi lizz! I didn't think V and G would get together either! I'm glad you like the story-I hope you continue to enjoy it!

I have a sudden and horrible suspicion that my story is a huge failure and that all my reviewers are just too nice to be flamethrowers…

**Chapter 5:** **The Date**

**Part 1- A Bakery and a Mystery Boyfriend**

_**10.00 a.m., Thursday**_

Ron Weasley was depressed. The past two days hadn't particularly been a bed of roses for him. More like an inferno from hell sent specially to torture him…

After he'd walked out of his flat fresh from his argument with Hermione, he'd spent the rest of Tuesday alternating between wallowing in self-pity and seething impotently at popular quidditch players.

On Wednesday, he'd pulled himself together just enough to surprise Harry by attending the day's combat training session. Harry, predictably, did not refer to Hermione at all and Ron was damned if he would do it either.

Consequently, two whole days went by without Ron speaking to Hermione and she hadn't done anything on her part to remedy the situation. The only think Ron wasn't complaining about was the fact that his mum hadn't asked any questions. (He rightly supposed that Harry, with his usual tact, had conveyed to her the delicate nature of his present relations with Hermione.) He couldn't help thinking, however, that everyone but him seemed to think that all would be as right as rain in no time.

Ron shuffled his feet moodily along the cobbled path, brooding on his countless misfortunes. He looked up ahead and across the street listlessly, then brightened imperceptibly. He had come to a standstill right opposite one of his favourite haunts.

_Cakes and Bakes_ **(A.N: Not the most imaginative name, but doesn't matter) **was the best bakery for miles around. Its warm smells, equally warm service and wonderful baked goodies made it a delightful habitat for connoisseurs of gastronomy. _Cakes and Bakes _alsohad the double distinction of being popular in both the muggle and wizarding worlds. It achieved this popularity by the simple expedient of being situated in a very convenient position.

To a muggle entering its front from Eagle Street (which was a muggle street, by the way) it appeared that the owner or one of her several associates stood behind the delicacy-laden counters with a mirror (in the place of a wall) for a backdrop. But wizards entering from Blindgate Alley (which ran parallel to Eagle Street), saw a spacious outlet with a transparent wall for a backdrop through which they could observe their unsuspecting muggle counterparts on the other side. The magical portion of the bakery had something else that the muggle portion lacked- a provision for customers to sit and eat there at their leisure if they wished to do so.

A real anti-depressant if there ever was one.

Ron crossed the street, dodged a parcel-laden individual and darted into the bakery's welcoming interior.

……………………….

Morgan added the finishing touches to her last batch of cookies and paused to admire her handiwork. Satisfied, she banished the trays with an expert flick of her wand to their rightful place behind the glass counters. Then, pulling off her apron, she opened the door that connected the baking area to the bakery adjacent to it.

Walking in, Morgan spotted a familiar head of flaming red hair making its way to table number 2. _Weasley,_ she thought. _Our most frequent and esteemed customer._ She grinned as she thought how Weasley considered his coming here a big secret. Apparently his mother would feel insulted if she knew her son frequented this place when he refused to accept her weekly offering of baked goods. Morgan doubted if even Weasley's more famous best friend knew of this place. (Even if he did, she supposed that he was too busy fighting evil to accompany Weasley on his jaunts.)

"Hey there, Finley," called Ron on catching sight of the assistant manager (whose culinary skills went into a good chunk of the bakery's creations.) "D'you have anything new for me to try, today?"

"You're in luck, I do," replied Morgan smiling. "May I present- a yet-to-be-named cookie delight." The plate she conjured bore a sample from the tray she'd just baked. "It's simply delicious," she stated, setting the plate in front of him.

Ron bit into the cookie and closed his eyes while he savoured it slowly. She was right. It just went down with the most sinful ease. He demolished the rest of it with obvious relish, then flashed his lopsided grin at the cookie's auburn-haired creator.

"Your magic touch at work here again, Finley?"

"If that's what you call it, yes," replied Morgan, pleased that her morning's work hadn't gone unappreciated. "I suppose you'll go on to have your usual then?"

"Yep."

"Right." She tapped the star-shaped badge on her collar and spoke briefly into it. "Naina, you there? Yeah…Table 2. Mr.Weasley.The usual. That's right." She looked at Ron and smiled apologetically. "I'll leave you to enjoy your snack in peace and come back for a chat in a little while from now, if you don't mind."

In answer to Ron's questioning look she gestured to the window-wall behind him. "Muggle customers and everyone else too busy." She grinned again and walked away unhurriedly.

Ron watched her go, then turned to drown his freshly resurfaced sorrows in swirls of chocolate and dollops of cream.

…………………………

"Super. As usual," proclaimed Ron to Morgan a while later.

"Glad you enjoyed it," said Morgan politely, knowing that her duty was to be friendly but not over-friendly, warm but impersonal. (A bundle of contradictions really, but that was business.)

Ron broke the silence first- he was in the mood to talk. "Let me ask you a hypothetical question, if you have time, that is." He went on when Morgan nodded her assent. He really needed to get this off his chest. "Um…let's say I have this friend, you know, who had a fight with his…err… fiancée, about an old flame of hers. They're not talking to each other (not the flame and fiancée…I meant my friend and his fiancée). He's really depressed. What should he do? All hypothetically speaking, of course."

Morgan chuckled inwardly. "Well, you said they weren't speaking. That's the root of the problem, if you ask me. Half the trouble in any relationship stems from all that misunderstanding that comes from not talking, you know…"

Ron looked hopefully at her. "Really?"

"Really. I'm not kidding."

Ron got up to leave, determined now to talk to Hermione and set things right. "That really clarifies things. I'm…I'll tell my friend, he'll be grateful…"

"No problem. And don't worry; I'm sure you and Hermione will work things out. Just talk to her, you'll see."

Ron froze. "Hang on, who said anything about 'me and Hermione'," he demanded, wondering if he'd been _too_ obvious.

Morgan schooled her face into its most serious expression. "I was speaking hypothetically, of course…" she replied politely!

……………………………………

_**8.00 p.m. Thursday**_

Harry was flipping idly through the pages of _Quidditch!_, lounging on his bed and trying hard not to think of the 'Dreaded Date'( as he dubbed it) which he would have to face the day after tomorrow.

He looked up, becoming alert and still at a sudden noise. Listening intently, he realized that what he'd heard was the sound of two people apparating into the adjacent bedroom.

Harry relaxed, smiled to himself and continued his lazy perusal of the colourful magazine.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

_**Sometime in the evening, Friday.**_

They were standing in the street outside the gate that led to her apartment block.

His hair fell alluringly onto his forehead and Sheena couldn't resist reaching out and pushing the errant lock away from his face.

"Why won't you come in? Morgan won't mind once she realizes that you work for Dumbledore…"

"For one thing, it wouldn't do to spread word that I'm a spy and for another, your friend won't believe me whatever you or I say," he replied softly. Then suddenly diffident, he spoke up again. "You _do_ believe me, don't you?"

Sheena felt her heart melt at his tone. The light from the street lamp fell onto his hair, making it look like a halo. He's been so misunderstood, she thought with a pang.

"_Of course_ I do, Draco," said Sheena reassuringly.

"Thank Merlin for that! I have to go darling, some important work to do."

"Be careful, Draco," said Sheena worriedly.

"I will, don't worry."

Sheena leaned in for a kiss and then pulled back and walked into her home, a slight frown of worry creasing her smooth forehead.

Malfoy stood looking after her, his loving smile fading into a self-congratulatory smirk. _I'd hate to be in your place now, Morgan_, he thought, his gray eyes resembling chips of ice as he disapparated after checking around for any muggles.

…………………..

Morgan looked up from the book she'd been reading as Sheena walked into their living room.

"Where've you been?"

"Somewhere." Sheena shrugged her pretty shoulders noncommittally.

"Aha! I take that to mean you were out with The Mystery Boyfriend." Morgan raised her eyebrow in amusement before adopting a pleading look. "Why won't you tell _me_ who it is?"

Sheena sighed. "Because he's…he's just shy, that's why. Okay look, I'll tell you after your date and everything. I'll even invite him over for lunch on Sunday if you like. But till then, no questions…please."

Morgan cast a speculative look at Sheena. Once the latter had made her mind up, there would be no changing it. Out of respect for her friend's privacy, Morgan decided to ignore a vaguely nagging feeling within and give the matter of the Mystery Boyfriend a rest.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

**Part 2- The Meeting**

Harry smoothed the front of his trademark bottle-green robes with a nervous hand. He was at least forty-five minutes early, but there was nothing he could do about that. Ron and Hermione (who had resolved their argument and had now reverted to their old 'we're in love' mode) had packed him off in a hurry citing umpteen reasons for doing so.

"You're not even sure of the place, Harry, and if you land up getting late because of difficulty in locating it, the girl may not be too pleased." Hermione had looked positively forbidding when Harry tried to tell them that he would have no such problems.

"Yeah, mate, especially if she's been waiting all week to know who you are. I reckon it wouldn't do at all to keep her waiting any longer." Ron had given Hermione his unstinting support in getting Harry to start early.

Harry was quite helpless in such matters, and he hated it. He could tackle either Ron or Hermione, but both together…he was simply powerless to resist their nagging.

"I liked you better in the role of 'Help! Ron and I just fought'," said Harry dryly to Hermione. He earned a glare in return. Ron only grinned at the exchange.

"What did you say her name was, Harry?" asked the redhead.

"I didn't say. The second communication I received said that her name was…"

Hermione had interrupted with an irritable "That's enough, both of you. Harry, stop finding excuses to dawdle. Now _go_."

Harry hadn't had much of a choice. He went.

As a result he was standing in front of a newly painted door behind which his date resided, probably spending her time dressing up and dabbing on tons of makeup. He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

…………………………………………….

Morgan finished cooking dinner for Sheena (an attempt on the latter's part to cook would have resulted in some form of mild poisoning for the eater), pulled off her tattered apron ("It's my favourite," she would say defensively when Sheena tried to imply she needed a new one) and plonked down on the sofa with a sigh.

A glance at the clock told her that there was still an hour to go for her date to get there. She sat for a while thinking about nothing in particular and then suddenly remembered that Sheena had told her that her boyfriend would come home sometime in the evening. Morgan was suddenly glad that she'd made enough dinner to feed a hippogriff but felt a small sense of disappointment that she wouldn't be there to see the man.

She was suddenly aware that the doorbell was ringing. She went up to it, knowing it couldn't be her date as yet. She squinted through the peephole (which Sheena somehow didn't like but Morgan considered a useful muggle invention). It was a man, no… a wizard with messy black hair and that was all she could make out.

Suddenly, Morgan felt like someone had turned on a floodlight in her brain. If she wasn't mistaken, the man outside was Sheena's boyfriend who was probably under the impression that Morgan had already left for her date.

The doorbell rang again, a little more insistently this time. Excited, Morgan pulled open the door with a smile and looked right into the eyes of one Harry James Potter.

………………………………………….

Harry was getting a little impatient. He was now sure that his assumption about the date dressing herself had been quite right. Sighing and wishing he could get this over with as quickly as possible, he rang the doorbell again.

This time he was rewarded with the opening of the door. A girl, dressed simply in black jeans and a turtleneck shirt that was some shade of blue, stood smiling at the threshold.

Harry promptly assumed that this auburn-haired beauty was Sheena Connelly, the flat mate of his date, Morgan Finley.

"Sheena Connelly?" he asked politely.

………………………………………….

Morgan immediately realized why Sheena had been so unforthcoming about her boyfriend. Harry Potter was known for his allergy to fame and naturally, she thought, he wouldn't want newspapers to gossip about his love life.

"Sheena Connelly?" He was asking for Sheen, trying not to reveal the true nature of his visit. Morgan smiled warmly at him.

"She's having her bath at the moment. Why don't you come in, Mr. Potter, while I check to see if she's done?" Morgan saw to it that he was seated comfortably and then retreated into the hallway to go to Sheena's room. She was really happy for her friend and was relieved that the Boyfriend was really a nice man and not a criminal or anything like it.

………………………………………….

Harry, of course, assumed that the 'she' was Morgan. This Sheena person wasn't bad at all- she'd recognized him but hadn't indulged in daft double takes or gasps of surprise or anything. She'd skipped all painful preliminaries and had tactfully made him feel welcome. If Morgan Finley was half as nice as her…

'Sheena' had re-entered with another young woman. The latter was tall with bouncy blonde curls (he preferred the auburn hair) and was, he felt, a little too overdressed for his liking. 'Sheena' looked a little dazed. He wondered why.

The blonde walked up to him and held out her hand, which he shook politely.

"Mr. Potter, _I'm_ Sheena Connelly and _that_ is Morgan Finley."

Harry was stupefied. What was she saying?

"I think there's been a slight misunderstanding here. Morgan thought you were my boyfriend whom she's never met and who is a mystery to her for reasons that are my own. And I'm quite sure you are labouring under the misconception that she is Sheena Connelly," explained Sheena, her eyes dancing merrily.

"Wha-what? Why did she say she was, then?"

Morgan came out of her daze at this. "I _didn't_!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I said 'she' was having her bath. You were the one who assumed that 'she' meant 'Morgan'!"

Sheena closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. This wasn't a good time for Morgan to lose her temper and this whole thing had gotten off on the _wrongest _foot possible.

Harry's head was reeling but he couldn't help noticing that the real Morgan was pretty when she was angry. And she was right when she said that he'd misunderstood the entire thing. Then, suddenly, he smiled delightedly. She was Morgan, not Sheena!

"What are you smirking for?" Morgan's petulant voice broke into his reverie.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically. Then he grinned again and held out his hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you Morgan Finley."

Morgan was surprised at his ready apology. She'd been preparing for a row with him (now that he wasn't Sheena's boyfriend, she could go back to thinking he was an arrogant prat) and was quite ready to battle with him. She looked consideringly at his hand and then at his face, which had a hopeful look behind the charming smile. She relented and took his hand.

" I'm not sure if I can say the same of you, Mr. Potter, but I accept your apology," said Morgan, looking her snooty best. But she burst out laughing the moment she saw his expression for his smile had slid off his face and had been replaced by a look of acute consternation at her words.

Harry was first bewildered, and then recovered enough to feel relieved. He couldn't help laughing as well; laughing along with a girl who had the most infectious laugh he'd ever heard.

They were still chuckling at their ridiculous misunderstanding when Sheena, satisfied that things had turned out quite well in the end, crept out of the room unnoticed.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Part 3-Dinner for two**

"You know, I keep thinking I've seen you before somewhere," said Harry bringing his face close to Morgan's and squinting absurdly.

Morgan laughed. "Well, I _was_ in Hogwarts, so I s'ppose you saw me around then and in spite of being so busy remembered my haunting face and eyes..."

"Ha, ha, very funny, lady…" said Harry then looked down and tugged at his bottle-green shirt. Morgan had transfigured his robes for him because they'd decided to go to a muggle restaurant. "I suppose you were in Ravenclaw?" He continued when she inclined her head. "I'm not surprised."

" And I'm really surprised now that you were in Gryffindor," she replied sarcastically, "I'd have thought the Sorting Hat would have put you in Slytherin…" She stopped and looked at Harry, who had an odd expression on his face. "Oh no, it_ did_ want to put you in Slytherin, didn't it?" she said softly, her eyes reflecting her sympathy. "Well, join the club…" she ended rather bitterly.

Harry looked at her in surprise. "You too? Then how…?"

"Well, McGonnagall wasn't too pleased with me when I went down on my knees during the Sorting and begged to be put in Ravenclaw…"

Harry chuckled, reminded of his own plea to the Hat. "I don't remember seeing anyone do that, though."

Morgan grinned. "If I'm not mistaken, that was the year you and Ron made a dramatic entrance in that flying car. I remember Sheena telling me in hushed tones that the Great Harry Potter was faced with possible expulsion. She was one for gossip, was Sheena…"

Harry smiled reminiscently. "Ah, so you knew Luna Lovegood, I suppose."

"Yeah, and Ginny Weasley was also in my year." Morgan's expression suddenly became wicked. "I also knew Cho Chang, by the way…"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah…well…first crush and all that…how did you know her when she was two years your senior?"

"Quidditch," replied Morgan simply.

"You play?"

"I was on the team after Davies left and Cho was dropped."

"Seeker?"

"No, beater. I was a really frustrated soul at that time. It was a good outlet for my frustration. We played only one match against Gryffindor that year, if you remember, and when you're busy seeking, you don't tend to notice the team's beaters," said Morgan, anticipating his next query.

"Yeah, I suppose…Pity, though, if I _had_ noticed…"

"You wouldn't have done anything about it."

Harry couldn't help noticing that this girl was extremely perceptive, understanding him in a way no one had before. For the millionth time he thanked Ron and Hermione mentally for having forced him into this date. Morgan was perfect.

Morgan was taken with Harry's simplicity and strength even after all he went through. She had breathed a sigh of relief when their conversation's first topic had changed-she didn't want anything from her dicey past resurfacing. She quickly tuned into what Harry was saying at that moment.

"To be honest with you, I wasn't keen on this whole blind date business when Ron forced me into it," began Harry.

"I'm sensing a 'but' somewhere in this," teased Morgan.

Harry smiled. There was a time for cheeky retorts but this was not it. "But," he continued, "I'm really glad I came on this date after all."

Morgan gave him a warm look. "Me too, Harry, me too." Her expression became solemn. "There's just one more thing I need to ask you, Harry."

"What's that?"

Morgan's eyes danced mischievously. "Can I have your autograph?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Important,please read this**

**A.N:** Phew! Done typing at last! Please review. I need a lot of confidence boosters…

Conversation between author and author's mum:

Mum: Why are you spending so much time on the computer?

Author: I'm looking for some info on 'nif genes'-it's an important question in my Microbiology exam.

Mum: Am I imagining it, or is your nose longer?

Author: You're imagining it…

Mum looks skeptically at author and author flees the scene.

So, dear readers, before my nose grows any longer, I fear I must stop updating for a while. I'll be back on the 13th of May and I expect to see the number of my reviews reach at least 50 if not a 100!


	6. Interlude

**Author's note**: I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD! Ermm…no, not really…but I'M BACK! My exams are over, I'm already losing my head having fun, I have a big, silly grin on my face-in other words, 'God's in His heaven and all's right with the world'!

**Alex**: I haven't heard from you for long. How's your story going?

**SummerOfFreedom**:Thanks a lot! Ah, Morgan seems perfect, doesn't she?

**Elphie73:** Hey, there! You're absolutely right about the 'and the latter' thing-I'll be more careful from now on. I'm glad you're reading so carefully!

**Cassandra Cheney: **Thanks, keep reading!

**yo-yo55d: **Nice to see that review, thanks!

**Kateya: **That's really sweet of you!

**Monai:** I'm gonna read your story now that I'm free at last! Keep readin' and reviewin'!

………………………..

**This chapter is dedicated to all my patient reviewers. Love ya!**

**Chapter 6:** **Interlude**

"Soooo?" Ron's eyebrow went up suggestively, not bothering to conceal his curiosity.

"So…what?" asked Harry innocently.

"Harry, how was the girl? What's her name? Did you two kiss? Is she gorgeous?" asked Ron in one breath and in a horribly eager manner.

Harry smirked. "I'm tired, Ron. Can we talk tomorrow?"

"Harry James Potter. Spill the beans. Now," commanded the hitherto silent Hermione who had rolled her eyes at Ron's questioning but could not bear to be kept in suspense about Harry's date either.

Harry looked deliberately contemplative. "Weeell…" he drawled, then relented when he saw his friends' exasperated looks. "First of all, her name's Morgan Finley and…"

"You don't say!" interrupted Ron, looking happily surprised.

Harry and Hermione stared at the redhead.

"You _know_ her?" asked Hermione, frowning slightly.

Ron suddenly realized that he was being scrutinized and came out of his reverie smiling sheepishly. "Um, actually she's the assistant manager in a bakery that I frequent. She's a great cook (even better than mom), has a great sense of humour and is sensitive to other people's feelings. She also has a hell of a temper-I saw her losing it at some customer who made a pass at her…er…. what?"

Harry felt a small gnaw of irrational jealousy, which subsided just as suddenly as it arose.

"Good night, 'Mione, Ron'll fill you on the rest of the details as well," he said dryly.

"Hey! I was just saying it's great that it was Finley who was your date…" said Ron placatingly.

"Ronniekins," began Hermione sweetly, "Would you _shut up_!" she hissed instead. "Go on, Harry, tell us about this Morgan Finley…"

Harry chuckled. Some things never changed. He cleared his throat dramatically and proceeded to give Hermione and Ron the much-awaited account of his date.

………………..

"So you didn't kiss her," said Ron disappointedly twenty minutes later.

Harry took a leaf from Hermione's book and treated Ron to a classic eye-roll.

"Ron," he said with mock-patience, "I barely know her, all right? And did you really think I would freak her out by saying 'I really enjoyed your company' and then proceed to snog her senseless?"

"No, but you could've shown you liked her at least…"

"I did! I asked her if she wanted to go somewhere tomorrow but she said she was busy and invited me to the bakery instead."

"Can I come too?"

"No."

"Please? I swear I'll keep my mouth shut and everything."

"No."

"Well, if you claim to be just _friendly_ with her, why don't you want me to come along?"

"I dunno."

Ron changed his strategy, a skill born from being a champion at wizard chess.

"Are you sure you want to go? I mean, there'll be a whole lot of people out there, you know. You may need some moral support…"

"I never said I was going to be in the _customer_ area, Ron."

"What? Not fair!" exclaimed Ron enviously. His face took on a sly expression as he narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Don't do anything naughty, Harry my boy."

Harry grinned at Ron's perfect rendition of 'Pompous Percy Gives Advice'.

"Ron, you pervert, how does Hermione stand you?" He glanced at the brunette, who had fallen silent and who didn't seem to be paying attention to the latter part of their conversation.

"Huh…oh, yes, Ron's always boasting about that," remarked Hermione vaguely.

"What do I always boast about, Hermy?" asked Ron teasingly, while Harry rolled about on the sofa, weak with laughter.

"Er…that you can beat Oliver Wood at Keeping? You were talking about Quidditch, weren't you?"

"You brag that you can beat the current best Keeper in the world?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Never mind that," retorted Ron, blushing a little. "Hermione, is something bothering you?" he asked shrewdly.

"No…it's just that…Harry, please don't get mad at me, but doesn't this Morgan person seem a little too perfect? I mean, don't you think you're rushing this thing a bit by meeting her again tomorrow?"

Harry frowned while Ron looked aghast.

"Hermione, you and Ron pushed me into this stupid date thing, but luckily things went okay and the girl was great. She's different from the others. And now, when I want to see her again, you're feeling uneasy. Now _that's_ a laugh…"

"Harry, I didn't mean to discourage you. It's just…I-I don't want to see you hurt, that's all," said Hermione softly.

Harry fumed silently. Here we go again, he thought in annoyance. I appreciate that they care about me but this is ridiculous, this…His train of thought was interrupted by Ron's words.

"Hermione, look, Harry can take care of himself, okay?" he said sagely. "We just gave him a little nudge in the right direction…" he winked. "And Morgan's a good person. Let Harry have some fun with a _real_ woman for a change."

"What d'you mean, 'real woman'?" asked Harry indignantly.

"Well, I meant one who likes Harry and not Potter," said Ron superiorly.

"Look, it's midnight, you're not making any sense, I'm going to bed," declared Harry.

"Am I forgiven, Harry?" asked Hermione in a small voice.

Harry pretended to consider the matter, ("Yeah, okay…") but looked at Hermione's crestfallen face and enveloped her in a hug instead.

"Um, mind letting go of my fiancée, Harry?" said Ron, clearing his throat theatrically.

Harry smiled, released Hermione and turned to go after muttering a 'good night'.

His two best friends watched him indulgently as he walked to his room. Then Hermione turned to Ron.

"When did you get so mature?"

Ron pretended not to hear her query. He adopted a dazed look and murmured, "Did you hear him? He said 'Good night Mr and Mrs Weasley'!"

…………………………………………………

_**Sunday**_

"There you go, nice and hot."

"Morgan, if I eat any more I'm going to have to skip dinner."

"You sound like a witch who's trying to lose weight to impress her boyfriend, Harry," said Morgan mockingly.

Harry sighed resignedly. "All right, I'm really not complaining. How did you get to be such a good cook? Your mum teach you?"

Morgan, who'd turned away to check on her cake and banish a batch of tarts into the bakery, froze.

"Morgan?"

"Huh? Oh, actually, I find the kitchen a relaxing place to be and if you enjoy doing something, you just become good at it, I suppose."

"And your mum? She a good cook too?"

Morgan whirled round angrily. "I don't have a mum, all right? My parents are dead." _To me_ she added to herself.

"So are mine," said Harry calmly.

"Sorry," said Morgan, immediately contrite.

"Don't worry about it. Say, Ron is just seething with jealousy 'cos I get to be here sampling all the goodies while he has to sweat it out at Hermione's parents' place," said Harry, his green eyes made brighter with mischief.

Morgan laughed and Harry was relieved when their conversation reverted to its easy self once more.

………………………………..

Naina Mathur was finished for the day. She ran a comb through her hair made unkempt by the hassle of a busy day at the bakery. She deftly braided the long dark locks as she smiled at the thought of her little son and his loving father.

Naina picked up her bag and glanced curiously at the entrance to the baking area. The door was partly open, enough for her to see that the two occupants were deeply engrossed in their conversation. Her eyes widened slightly when the young man put his hand up to his companion's cheek. Not wanting to wait and see if things went further, Naina grinned happily and walked out of the bakery.

……………………………………

"Sooner."

"But you're busy through the week. At least I have the evenings off."

"Okay, Wednesday evening then."

"Um, I…"

"Please? And you can meet Ron and Hermione…" Emerald eyes pleaded with grey.

"I should be flattered. You, of all people, begging…"

"Do not make me grovel, woman," growled Harry but looked meltingly at Morgan.

"Okay."

"Please?"

"I said 'okay'."

"Oh…right. See you then?"

"Yeah."

"Good night, Morgan."

" 'Night Harry."

Harry disapparated. _I practically went down on my knees to ask her out. What's wrong with me?_

Morgan stared for a while at the empty spot that had previously held Harry._ One blind date and I'm already going on the third this week. Is it supposed to go this fast? But his eyes were irresistible. Great. Good going Finley. Now you're dreaming about his eyes. _

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

…………………………………….

**A.N**: A highly pointless chapter, but I'm just getting back into stride, so please forgive me. (That's why it's called 'Interlude') Next chapter;more interesting, I promise.


	7. Wednesday with the Weasleys

**Author's note:** Okay, at the cost of sounding like a sentimental fool, I have to say that all my reviewers are the sweetest ever! You guys really put that s-m-i-l-e on my face (sniff!)!

**Elphie73:** Sorry 'bout that wait…I wasn't too sure about the 'Don't make me grovel' line either but my reasoning is that Harry is really comfortable with Morgan, so he's quite up to those one-liners around her…Anyway, glad you liked it!

**Tonksss: **Thanks…here's the next chapter!

**SummerOfFreedom:** Glad you thought so, thanks!

**violet snicket: **Yeah, I realize that I goofed up a bit on that Krum/Ginny aspect. Hope this chapter clears things up a bit. Thank you so much for reviewing!

Once more, here's a bear hug for you guys. (Did someone just yell 'oxygen!'?)

**Chapter 7:** **Wednesday with the Weasleys**

Morgan paused in the act of rummaging in her closet for her cloak and stared disbelievingly at Sheena.

"Come again?"

"I said, I think Harry's serious about you."

Morgan went back to rummaging, found her cloak and put it on unhurriedly.

"Sheena, he just asked me to spend the evening with him and the Weasleys…"

"That's just it," interrupted Sheena. "He's introducing you to his family which indicates that he's serious about you. I don't think he's done that with any other girl before" she concluded airily.

"Excuse me? This is our third date and you're talking like he wants to marry me or something!"

"No, but it goes to show…"

"Show, what?"

"Nothing."

"I _hate_ it when you do that," grumbled Morgan. "Do I look okay?"

"You never look not okay," said Sheena half-enviously.

"Yeah, yeah, what d'you want from me, Connelly?"

"Ever looked in a mirror, my dear? I, for one, can never understand how you can fail to see how lovely you are-no, don't shake your head at me like that, Morgan."

Morgan laughed. "I know I'm not ugly…"

"That means you're beautiful," said Sheena immediately.

"No, that's not what I meant."

"If you know you're not ugly, it means you know you're beautiful."

"Say something different for a change."

"You're in love with Harry."

Morgan gave a most un-ladylike snort. "Spare me the clichés, oh Sheena the Romantic."

"Well, I can see that you think about him a lot these days."

"Well done, Trelawney," said Morgan dryly, "Obviously, I can't help thinking about him and certain other aspects of…_you_ know better than others."

"Look, Morgan, you don't have to think you don't deserve him, okay?"

Morgan sighed. "Can we not talk about this? Please?"

Sheena frowned and then brightened. "Okay, tell me, do you hate Harry?"

Morgan groaned this time. She knew what was coming next. "No. That means I love him, doesn't it?" she asked sarcastically.

Sheena gave her a wicked grin, but Morgan eclipsed it with one of her own.

"You tell me now, Sheen. Remember a certain Slytherin back in Hogwarts whom I, among others, disliked?"

"Erm…D-draco Malfoy?"

"You used to call him a 'cute villain' if I recall right. D'you hate him?"

"No."

"Then, according to your logic, you love him. Ha ha ha!"

"Very funny, Finley."

"Yeah, well, you asked for it. Merlin! I have to go. Bye Sheen, and stop planning my romantic wedding with Harry," said Morgan and then disapparated hastily.

Sheena felt her heartbeat return slowly to normal. _That was close _she thought. _That was way too close._

…………………………………..

Ron and Hermione watched, amused, as Harry paced before them restlessly.

"Hermione, d'you see that hole appearing in the carpet?" asked Ron, dramatically clutching at her hand.

"Stop it, Ron, he's just nervous…"

"What for? It's not like we're going to gobble up Morgan or anything…"

Hermione sniffed superiorly. "You won't understand, leave him be."

Ron shrugged and then lowered his voice to a whisper. "You know, I think he really likes her."

"I think so too," whispered Hermione in reply.

There was a comfortable silence before Hermione said softly "I know what you're thinking, Ron."

Ron slid down the sofa so that he could rest his head on Hermione's shoulder. "You know, I feel bad about thinking it, but I really hoped that he and Ginny would get together and I know, deep down, mum and dad hoped so too…"

Hermione ran her hand through the bright red strands that were Ron's hair. "And Harry knows it as well. Now you know why he's nervous."

"I don't have anything against Morgan-in fact she's better in many ways for Harry. Ginny can't cook for nuts. No, it's not that. It's just…"

"That deep down feeling?"

"That deep down feeling."

"Um, Ron? About Ginny? I think she can take care of herself. In fact, last I heard, she was dating Viktor."

"Yeah…**WHAT**?" The whisper ended in a shout that startled Harry, who pulled out his wand reflexively mid-pace, realized that it was Ron and put it back looking bewildered.

"When you said Krum was dating someone else, I didn't think it was _Ginny_. Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Ron.

"Because I knew you'd blow your top and we'd just begun talking to each other."

"Hermione, we're not supposed to have secrets from each other."

"Secrets about _us_," agreed Hermione. "But this was not my secret to tell and in fact I shouldn't have told you now."

"She has a point, Ron," stated Harry calmly (now that he realized what had affected Ron so.)

Ron put his hands up in defeat and shook his head wordlessly. The sound of the doorbell brought the trio back to earth.

"She's here," said Harry a little apprehensively.

Hermione smiled warmly at him and Ron recovered from his shock enough to give Harry an encouraging wink. Harry breathed deeply and then went to open the door.

………………………..

"Is the _entire_ Weasley clan going to be there?" whispered Morgan desperately.

Harry smiled reassuringly at her. "Yeah, except Ginny and Percy. Don't worry, you'll like them."

"Yeah, I know _I'll _like them," said Morgan glumly. _The question is- will they like me?_

………………………

When all introductions had been made and Morgan had been shown around The Burrow, the Weasley twins cornered her by the fireplace. Harry did catch the glint in their eyes as they did so, but he wasn't unduly worried. He'd seen enough of Morgan to know that she could take care of herself. _Probably join in with whatever mischief they're planning_ he guessed shrewdly.

"Can you play chess?" asked Fred.

This was not a question she'd been expecting. "Yes, but I'm not great at it."

"Pity, because once again ickle Ronnie's going to beat one of us at it again after dinner and brag about it for ever afterwards," sighed George.

"I really don't think Ron's as much as a show-off as you make him out to be…"

"Really, you've never seen him at his worst," said both together.

The problem with Morgan was that whenever she felt a little nervous or insecure or angry, her way of relieving her stress was by becoming reckless. The level of recklessness, of course, depended on the level of stress she was under. And now, the mild stress of being scrutinized and hoping for approval from the Weasleys had gotten to her.

"Hmmm. Maybe there _is_ a way of beating him and I'm quite sure you two have thought about it," said Morgan thoughtfully.

Fred and George smiled identical evil smiles. They liked this one-she was all right.

………………………….

At dinner, Harry scrutinized all the occupants of the table in his usual discrete manner. Next to him Morgan, and opposite him, the twins seemed to be radiating innocence and Harry, who was an expert at smelling anything remotely fishy, observed them particularly closely. Morgan caught his eye, smiled warmly and then demurely went back to eating her dinner. Harry continued his scrutiny of the two scheming parties but was rewarded with no answer.

………………………………

"Checkmate."

Ron's jaw dropped in horror. "Tell me this is a nightmare," he said at last.

Bill, Charlie, and even their parents applauded appreciatively. Hermione patted Ron consolingly but even she had an unmistakable twinkle in her eyes.

Harry was laughing at the way the twins were celebrating Ron's defeat. They had hugged Morgan impulsively and were now twirling her around in a victory dance.

So that's what they'd been planning….

………………………………..

"As much as this sounds trite-I had a lovely time, Harry."

"Especially your _spectacular_ win at chess."

Morgan grinned and blushed simultaneously. "I knew you knew."

"That was a clever spell, though. Charming the board so that it showed your opponent losing, whatever he did. Even if he actually won."

"Okay, you're mad at me aren't you?"

"No."

"You should smile and say that then."

"You're incorrigible, you know."

"Actually, the twins thought of it-I just modified their idea a bit and helped with the spell…"

Harry laughed this time. "It was for a noble cause, after all. I forgive you," he added magnanimously.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, sir."

There was a sudden, uncomfortable silence. They were standing very close all of a sudden. Both of them knew somehow that a kiss was inevitable.

And once it happened, neither of them really minded…

…………………………………………

**A.N:** Author tries to prise Harry and Morgan apart but gives up what was a hopeless attempt from the start…

Anyway, I hope this chapter came out okay. You'll know later why it was necessary. Sorry if it bored you.

Next chapter: The Argument (Hang on! Who's gonna be arguing!)


	8. The Argument

**Author's note**: Thank you, the three who reviewed. That last chapter was a disaster. This one is slightly better.

**Domcooper:** Yes, I think so too, but sometimes I could swear these characters have a mind of their own…

**Elphie73: **Glad you liked it. I was sure you'd point out that I'd used 'scrutinised' too many times! (Nah…just kidding.) Did I mention that you're really encouraging?

**SummerOfFreedom:** There is absolutely no need to feel stupid. In fact, I forbid you to feel stupid! Read this chapter, you'll find the answer to your query. Keep reading!

**Chapter 8:** **The Argument**

Morgan sat down on her bed unseeingly. _WhathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdone _she thought over and over again. _I kissed Harry-I **kissed** him. Oh no. Oh no. What do I do?_

"Morgan?"

Morgan jumped as though someone had hit her with a cruciatus curse.

"Oh, it's you, Sheen." She pretended to arrange the bedclothes as if she were getting ready to go to bed.

"You are so transparent, Morgan."

"I'm no ghost, Connelly," joked Morgan weakly.

"Ha ha. No, I meant, I can see that you are extremely flustered right now," began Sheena. "You kissed him didn't you?" she asked in a business-like tone.

"I…don't know," said Morgan lamely.

"What d'you mean, you don't know?"

"I-I'm not sure if I kissed him or the other way round…"

"I see. No, the point is there was a kiss, and that's what matters."

"Look, Sheen, just leave me alone, please?"

"Fine. But remember, if you really hadn't wanted it to happen, you wouldn't have let it," said Sheena cryptically, closing the door softly as she went.

"I _hate _it when she does that," mumbled Morgan to herself, but wasn't entirely convinced that she hadn't understood.

…………………………….

"You will be very pleased when you hear this," said the tall, blonde-haired individual smugly.

"What is it?" asked his companion coldly.

"Morgan Finley has succumbed to the _charming_ Harry Potter or maybe it's the other way round. My _girlfriend_," he spat, "Is positively delighted at this turn of events. And so am I, for a very different reason."

"You are an excellent actor, Draco. You will be rewarded for your efforts," came the reply.

"Thank you. Is it time yet, for some action?"

"Yes. This couldn't have come at a better time. I will, of course, inform the Dark Lord. You see, my boy, luck favours the powerful and not weaklings who yearn for love…"

Malfoy nodded. "I await your further instructions."

The smirk on Malfoy's face deepened as he listened…

………………………………….

Hermione's forehead creased in worry. The wedding was only three weeks away. She hadn't realized, what with everything happening at once-Krum and Harry and Morgan.

Morgan Finley. Hermione contemplated this new woman in Harry's life and tried to ignore the vaguely niggling feeling she had about her. _No_, she chided herself. _She's really nice and is perfect for Harry and I'm not going to be prejudiced against her just because I'm insecure around her._

_I have a good reason to be_, mused Hermione. _She's beautiful, is very intelligent and has a sense of humour. She cooks and plays quidditch. Is there no end to her list of perfections_? thought Hermione bitterly.

Hermione was surprised at herself and immediately regretted her inexplicable envy. She liked Morgan, in spite of it all, for the girl clearly was no show-off and was genuinely interested in Harry.

Yet…

……………………………………..

Ron peered at Harry and bit back his laughter when he saw the glazed look in the famed emerald eyes.

"Er…Harry, come back to earth, mate…" Ron could see that it was no good so he decided to resort to drastic measures. "Death Eaters!" he yelled.

That did the trick. In one practiced movement, Harry had his wand out and had taken his fighting stance, but looked very annoyed indeed when he saw Ron shaking with laughter.

"Are you trying to get me to die of a heart attack, Ronald," he asked in a cheesed-off tone.

"Nah, I'm just trying to get you to pay attention to me," said the culprit cheekily.

"Yeah, I should've realized that Death Eaters would never enter our flat for a friendly chat…"

"Clearly, your mind was elsewhere," began Ron slyly.

Harry sighed exasperatedly. "Why don't you annoy Hermione for a change?"

"She's always telling me to annoy you for a change," pouted Ron. "And I know you kissed Morgan, by the way."

"Great. I suppose it's stamped on my forehead for all to see?"

"No, that would be your scar, mate," said Ron kindly.

Harry couldn't help but grin at that. "There's really no doubt about _that_, now is there?"

Ron smirked. "How was it?"

"How was what?" began Harry innocently. "Oh, you mean the kiss?"

"No, I meant Percy's new underwear," retorted Ron sarcastically. "Of course, the kiss, you dolt!"

Harry wrinkled his nose disgustedly at the first part of Ron's reply, but said "Yeah…it felt right somehow…it was great…"

"Wet?"

"Ron! I'm going to kill you for this!"

"Yeah? I'm scared."

The two bantered back and forth, each happy in their own way, not thinking, not believing that this was the calm before the sudden storm.

………………………………….

The rest of the week flew by and Harry and Morgan found themselves making time to meet up during the evenings. They talked, laughed and found each other's company rather addictive. Morgan discovered that she was constantly making excuses to disobey her conscience- she could not muster enough will to stop seeing Harry. She just couldn't.

As for Harry-he was happier than he'd been in years. He was looking more relaxed and he was beginning to be quite sure that he was falling for one auburn-haired witch who answered to the name of Morgan Finley.

……………………………………

**Saturday evening**

Morgan hummed happily to herself as she entered the living room, but stopped as if someone had just punched her in the face.

Lounging arrogantly on her favourite chair was Draco Malfoy.

"What the bloody hell are **you** doing here?" she asked, as if in a trance.

"Language, my dear Morgan. Associating with the Weasleys has corrupted you, I see," replied Malfoy sleekly.

Morgan pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. It is remarkable how an enormous amount of hatred and venom can incorporate itself in just two words.

"Get out."

Malfoy began to reply in an equally poisonous tone, but checked himself as he caught sight of Sheena's outline at the doorway.

"Won't you just hear what I've got to say, Morgan?" he said beseechingly.

Morgan's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why should I? I don't know why you're here, but whatever it is, I'm not interested. You'd better leave, or I'll raise the alarm that a Death Eater is in the vicinity," she warned, "Or perhaps, I could get rid of you myself," she added softly.

"Morgan, don't," came Sheena's voice from the doorway.

Morgan whipped around. "Sheena, stay where you are. This guy is dangerous."

"No, he's not."

Morgan stared numbly as she watched her best friend walk up to Malfoy and kiss him lightly.

"What are you _doing_?" she asked hoarsely.

"Morgan, Draco's not what you think he is. He's a spy…"

Morgan interrupted with a short laugh. "Of _course_ he's a spy. A spy for _Voldemort_."

"No, that's not true. You're just not listening, Morgan."

Morgan looked at Sheena, her eyes reflecting the betrayal she felt. "How _could_ you? You knew what he was. You knew what he is to me. He's just playing with your romantic ideals, Sheena. And you know what? You're too stupid to see through him."

"Oh. Wonderful. _Perfect_ Morgan, who always knows what is right, who is so _clever_ and _lovely_ and can cook _so_ well. You know what? I'm sick of _you_. Waltzing in and winning the adoration of my family- I _hate _you!" Sheena regretted the words the minute they were out.

Sheena's outburst shocked and hurt Morgan. But she still refused to believe that her friend had deliberately tried to wound her.

"I'm sorry if you feel that way, Sheen, but try to understand…"

Sheena felt annoyed again. "No, _you_ try to understand. I love Draco and nothing's going to come between us. Not even you."

Morgan couldn't believe what she was hearing. She turned to Malfoy. "This is all your doing, you sick, twisted…bastard." She was breathing heavily now, and her temper had long crossed that point where you could control it by counting to ten.

Malfoy adopted a hurt expression. "I told you she wouldn't believe me," he said softly to Sheena, who caressed his cheek lovingly.

Morgan wanted to let fly a string of hexes at them but restrained herself with a huge effort.

"I'm warning you, Sheena, he will betray you."

"I don't think I want to listen to what you're saying, Finley."

"And I don't think I ever want to see you again," burst out Morgan angrily.

"Fine!"

Morgan didn't reply. She strode to her room, packed her things hastily and disapparated without knowing where she was going.

Sheena watched her best friend leave with a sudden pang. After Morgan had gone, she turned to Draco and sobbed into his shoulder.

_I hold all the strings, you puppets _thought Malfoy, satisfied.

………………………………….

Hermione apparated over to the boys' place to talk about some more wedding plans with Ron. She was hailed cheerfully by both of them and the discussion went quite smoothly in spite of the fact that Ron kept suggesting that they have Chudley Cannons colours for the decorations.

Harry was the silent observer only occasionally making a useful comment here and there.

An easy silence reigned for a while, punctuated by the scratching of Hermione's quill. Which was why all three of them were startled by the ringing of the doorbell.

"I'll get it," said Harry after the three had exchanged looks that said 'Who could it be at this hour?'

Harry opened the door to reveal a slightly disheveled Morgan. A closer look at her told him that she'd been crying-her eyes were slightly red and puffy. But she was smiling apologetically at him at that moment.

"Harry, I'm so sorry, but I just had a huge quarrel with Sheena. Oh great. I feel really stupid now…" she trailed off, looking miserably at the bag she was holding.

"Come on in," said Harry gently.

………………………..

"She made it clear that she hated me for having 'won the adoration of her family'," said Morgan bitterly. "And then we quarreled some more about…various things and said horrible things to each other and I walked out. It's all her fault," she added angrily.

"Calm down. First of all, you need someplace to stay. And…"

"She can stay with me, Harry," offered Hermione.

Morgan looked hopefully at her. "Is it okay? I mean, I don't want to intrude on your privacy or anything. As it is, I'm being a nuisance…"

Hermione smiled at her, "Not at all. In fact, in return for my generosity, I'll except you to help me with some of the shopping…"

"It's a deal," agreed Morgan. "Thank you," she added.

Ron cleared his throat. "And may I remind you that tomorrow we're having lunch at my parents' place. You're invited too," he nodded at Morgan, "If Harry hasn't invited you already," he grinned charmingly.

Morgan felt slightly happier at their thoughtfulness. She went up to Harry and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be silly," whispered Harry into her hair.

They broke apart, smiling and Morgan followed Hermione as they disapparated to the latter's flat.

……………………………..

**Sunday afternoon**

They were all completely involved in a riotous game of quidditch. The unexpected arrival of Ginny Weasley (without Krum in tow) made it possible to have two teams of four each. Ron, Morgan, Ginny and Charlie versus Bill, the twins and Harry. Needless to say, the anxious eyes of Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and Fleur followed the fast and furious game, while Mr. Weasley applauded every good move.

Hermione was struck by the different styles of their flying. From a distance, it was difficult to differentiate between Morgan and Ginny, each with long, red hair. But the way they flew was completely different. And Hermione, though no expert at quidditch, could see perfectly that Morgan flew with a sort of reckless abandon, while Ginny's moves were all calculated.

The game ended with Harry's team winning narrowly.

The players alighted and trooped towards the spectators, talking animatedly. Hermione watched Morgan, whose grey eyes were alight with excitement as she debated one of Harry's moves with the person in question himself.

Then, suddenly in the bright sunlight it hit Hermione. Reckless…grey eyes…Morgan reminded her of…Hermione's eyes widened with the realization.

How could she have missed it before? How could they all?

…………………………………

**A.N:** Lot of questions unanswered? Ah…wait for the next chapter: Revelation, and the chapters after that. That means, keep reading!


	9. Revelation

**Author's note:** Okay, I'm sorry I couldn't update earlier, but I've just had a bad case of food poisoning, so apart from feeling weak and sorry for myself, I haven't done much else. So, why am I writing, you ask? Here are the reasons-

**jeevesandwooster: **Whoa! I don't know how to thank you for those reviews! 8 reviews for 8 chapters in one go? Well, they really made my day! G-R-I-N is what describes my face best at this moment. I'm glad you thought R and H's bantering masterful, I'm glad you liked Morgan as a character and I'm glad you love F and G 'cos I love 'em too! (Isn't that a lot of 'glads'!)

**SummerOfFreedom: **Thanks for that review! Hey, don't sweat about the confusion-I was a little confused myself when I worked out the plot initially. Just relax and keep reading…

**Elphie73:** Okay, I think I know who you think it is! Yeah, you're right as usual about the buildup for the fight. If I reason it out now- it's because Sheena and Morgan have never really fought before, so Sheen's never had a chance to vent those negative thoughts, hence the quick break. Anyway, I hope you never get bored-I'll miss your reviews(pout)…

**Domcooper: **Ahoy there! I'm sorry for the delay but you now know why so I hope you'll forgive me:-)

**Chapter 9: Revelation**

"What do you think?"

Morgan tilted her head consideringly before cocking her eyebrow at the questioner.

"What do _you_ think?"

Hermione bit her lip in frustration. "I don't know…it doesn't seem _me_ somehow…"

"That's what I thought," said Morgan looking sideways at Hermione.

"Oh, how _helpful_, Finley," muttered Hermione sardonically.

"Hermione, when you see 'The One', you'll know. Until then, I don't think you should settle for anything less-something you're not even comfortable in, for instance," came the sage reply.

Hermione put back the robes she was holding. She had her traditional wedding robes for the wizarding ceremony, but still needed an outfit for the party afterwards.

She and Morgan had been out shopping the whole morning (Ginny having left the previous night, citing work as the reason for her whirlwind visit), but hadn't made much progress. The reason being-Hermione did not know what she really wanted.

"Why don't you get something made to order?" Morgan had asked earlier.

"I can't imagine what I want, what would be perfect," Hermione had replied and Morgan had nodded understandingly.

"Why don't we give this a break?" asked Morgan, bringing Hermione out of her reverie.

"I think you're right. I'll get back to this later-still have to finalise some invitations and confirm payment with the decorators."

"Who's officiating?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

Morgan blushed slightly recalling an association she'd made between Dumbledore and bridesmaids. "That's wonderful," she replied finally.

Hermione decided to change the subject. "Heard anything from Sheena?"

Morgan's face darkened. "No. Not that I care," she added.

She couldn't have told a bigger untruth. Of course she cared and of course she missed her best friend. Hermione was a great person to be with but no one could replace her best friend. Ex-best friend she thought bitterly.

Hermione watched her companion's face carefully. She didn't know how to begin asking her big question. "Er…Morgan? You really remind me of someone I knew."

Morgan looked warily at Hermione. "Please don't tell me I look like one of the Weird Sisters or anything," was her attempt to lighten the sudden tension that had arisen from Merlin-knew-where.

Hermione shook her head mutely, trying to smile and was about to reply when Ron appeared next to them, grinning hugely.

" Hermy, guess what, Lupin said he could make it to the wedding after all!"

Hermione forced a smile that belied her frustration at being interrupted. "That's great news, Ron. And what are you doing here, by the way? Aren't you supposed to be talking to the caterers?"

"Relax, Hermy. I've done my bit-don't worry. I just thought that the news about Lupin couldn't possibly wait until you got home."

"Well now you're here, perhaps I could get some more shopping done after all, and you can help carry the parcels."

"Now, I don't know about that," began Ron alarmed but stopped at the thunderous look on his fiancée's face. "Uh…sure…sure Hermione-my pleasure," he concluded weakly.

Morgan chuckled to herself at their antics, but couldn't help wondering if what Hermione had been about say was something she didn't need to hear…

………………………….

Monday evening 

There was much laughter at Ron and Harry's flat that evening. Lupin and Morgan were united in the common goal of ribbing Ron, while Harry and Hermione watched Ron's defences amusedly.

There is an old East Indian superstition that if you laugh too much, you will compensate by crying as well.

And none of them had any idea how nightmarish that evening would turn out to be.

…………………..

They were just beginning dinner when the floo-call came for Harry. It was Billy Bates one of the people who worked under Harry in Surveillance.

"Mr. Potter, I have some bad news, sir." Billy was only eighteen, fresh out of school but excellent at his job. He, like most others, was awed by Harry, and no amount of convincing on that individual's part could make Billy call him anything other than 'sir' or 'Mr. Potter'.

"What's up, Billy?" asked Harry, immediately alert, with a quick glance at Lupin. The room had fallen dead silent.

"Sir, there's just been an attack at 13, Elm Street. Four people reported dead. Three muggles and…one witch. No sign of the Dark Mark, sir, but the place reeks of dark magic all right. Ella's out there, now-she's blocked the place to muggles for a couple of hours while we investigate."

"Who's watch was it?" asked Harry with forced calm.

"M-mine, sir."

"All right, Billy. You get on with that report and I'll join Ella. You can explain later as to what went wrong."

Billy gulped audibly and withdrew from the fire with a meek "Yes, sir."

Harry turned around with a worried frown and stopped short when he saw Morgan. She'd gone so white that she could pass for a ghost at that moment.

It hit Harry then. "Morgan, no."

"Sh-sheena's not…" said Morgan shakily.

"What's going on?" whispered Hermione.

"Th-thirteen Elm Street is our apartment," said Morgan in a monotone.

Hermione put her hand over her mouth while Ron looked aghast and Lupin looked wearily grim.

Without another word, Morgan disapparated leaving behind a shocked silence.

"Would you like me to come with you, Harry?" asked Lupin gently.

"I would appreciate that, Remus," replied Harry gratefully and the two disapparated dreading what awaited them at their destination.

………………………………

"It's perplexing. Why is there no Dark Mark when it's perfectly clear that this is the work of someone from the dark side?" asked Ella Green.

Harry shrugged vaguely. This was a nightmare, he thought. The apartment razed to the ground, the three muggles who were in it at that time charred beyond recognition, but Sheena untouched except that she was dead. Obviously, the person who had done this was a sadist. Harry hadn't wanted to identify the witch, but then he was on duty and there was no doubt that the dead witch _was_ Sheena Connelly.

………………………………

"Ma'am, I understand that you are Morgan Finley, room-mate of the deceased."

_The deceased_ thought Morgan bitterly. "Yes," she answered aloud.

"Do you identify this person as Sheena Connelly?"

"Yes. It is her."

"Thank you, ma'am. And I'm very sorry that this has happened. We've already sent someone to inform her family."

Morgan nodded looking at Sheena's cold, still form. _She could be asleep_ she thought.

"Morgan?"

Morgan turned around to face a pair of green eyes. The expression in them was unreadable.

They stood that way for a while, neither wanting to speak. One wanting answers, the other wanting solitude.

Harry broke their eye contact first and looked at Sheena instead. For the first time that night, he was looking very carefully at the body. He suddenly knelt down beside it and lifted the lifeless hand. He stared at it for a while and when he stood again, he looked like he was going to be sick.

"What is it?" whispered Morgan fearfully.

Harry didn't want to tell her, but she would find out anyway and he'd nothing to lose now. "Her hand."

Morgan mirrored Harry's earlier movements mechanically. Inscribed on Sheena's hand were the words-_Your fault_

……………………………

When she'd finally stopped retching violently, Morgan felt numbed of all feeling. Harry had left her for a while to talk to some aurors who'd arrived at the scene. And now he was returning and she didn't want to face him.

"Mrs. Connelly's here."

Morgan suddenly felt the breath squeezed out of her. "Take me away. Please."

Harry avoided the staring grey eyes. "All right."

…………………………..

It was a very hush-hush affair so as to not create panic in the wizarding world. After all, it was clear that the incident hadn't been a full-blown death eater attack.

Morgan didn't think she could make it to the funeral. For one, it would finalise the fact that Sheena wasn't going to come back and for another, it would mean facing the whole Connelly family.

_Coward_ she told herself after a long inward struggle. _I have to go even if they reject me. It's pure selfishness to think about myself alone._

The anger would come later. Now, there was only pain and…guilt.

……………………………….

"Mrs. Connelly, I can't tell you…" began Morgan but couldn't continue, as she felt all choked up.

Maria Connelly whose face was normally so young and full of laughter that people often joked that she and Sheena were sisters, now looked old all of a sudden.

"It's not your fault, dear," she said softly.

Morgan's eyes filled with tears. "No, you don't understand. But I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she repeated before turning around and disapparating.

Maria Connelly was left to grieve alone. Sheena's brothers Patrick and Brian were standing a short distance away, each twin giving the other comfort. _I've lost one daughter, Morgan_ thought Mrs. Connelly. _I don't want to lose the other as well._

……………………………….

Harry felt depressed. _Your fault_- the words were seared in his mind and wouldn't stop haunting him. _Great. Some personal vendetta against me and they have to punish my girlfriend's best friend for it. If Morgan had been there…_Harry didn't want to think about what the case might have been if Morgan _had_ been there.

It was bad enough now, with him trying to avoid what he felt were Morgan's accusing eyes. Some instinct made him turn away from the window but he regretted it because he was now facing the object of his contemplation.

"We need to talk."

Harry fingered his glasses, pushing them more securely up the bridge of his nose. "Morgan, I'm sorry. I know it's my fault, but believe me, I didn't mean it to happen…" he trailed off looking miserable.

Morgan stared at him. "What are you saying?" she whispered incredulously.

Harry sighed. "It's my fault Sheena is…well…you know." Even after seeing death so many times he couldn't bring himself to say the words. "You see, they probably targeted you to get at me but since you weren't around, Sheena became the victim."

Morgan stood very still. Harry thought that this whole mess was his fault? She couldn't let him labour under that misconception even if it meant opening a whole can of flobberworms.

She took a deep breath. "Harry, what you're saying is so far-fetched." She continued when he opened his mouth to reply. "No, I'll tell you why." Her voice had risen a notch higher, "It's because it's my fault. They wanted to punish _me."_

"How can it be your fault?"

"It's because of who I am, Harry," said Morgan, "And I told Sheena, I never wanted to see her again," she added in a shaky whisper.

Harry had a sudden feeling that things would never be the same after he asked his question, but his mouth opened of its own volition. "Who _are_ you, Morgan Finley?"

Morgan looked sadly at him. "I never thought I'd have to say this. But my real name isn't Morgan _Finley_ at all."

Harry waited. The tension between them was so high he thought _he _would snap under it.

Morgan had closed her eyes-she knew she couldn't bear to look at Harry as she told him. Mustering up all her remaining courage she said, "I was born Morgan Aurora…" she paused.

Harry could have never dreamed in a million years that she would say what she said next.

"…Lestrange."

…………………………………

"What are you doing?" asked Ron softly as he walked into Hermione's room.

"Just looking at some photos," replied Hermione tiredly. "Any news from Harry?"

"I haven't been to our flat yet. The funeral was this morning."

"I know."

"Poor Morgan."

They sat silently for sometime, feeling removed from another person's grief. "What photos are those?" asked Ron finally.

"Harry's album. I asked if I could borrow it. Ron," she asked suddenly, "Doesn't Morgan remind you of…"

"Bellatrix Lestrange? Yeah, it's not obvious at first, but the other day Neville pointed out the resemblance to me when I showed him that ridiculous photo that the twins had taken when Morgan defeated me at chess. But it doesn't mean anything, of course, as I told Neville, just a coincidence I think…Hermione?"

Hermione was stunned into silence. When she finally spoke it was in an uncharacteristic stutter. "Wh-what? I-I thought she looked like Sirius? I mean, her eyes, her attitude, everything…"

"You think she might be a Lestrange, after all?" asked Ron slowly. "The hair is different, her eyes lack that insane expression and her face is several years younger, but otherwise she _does _look a lot like Bellatrix. In fact, those eyes might be a Black family heirloom and that's why you thought she might be Sirius' illegitimate daughter or something."

Hermione and Ron stared wonderingly at each other, not liking the ideas that this new revelation brought with it.

"We could be wrong," said Hermione unconvincingly…

……………………………………..

Malfoy smirked at his aunt, pleased at her praise of him.

"It was easy-Miss Connelly didn't know her mistake until it was too late," he chuckled.

Bellatrix Lestrange smiled coldly. "Fool that she was. My daughter must be grief stricken. Poor thing," she mocked. "That will teach her to disobey me."

"I did not leave our mark, aunt."

"It is well. Our Master did not want this but I convinced him that it was something personal and would not interfere with his plans. Come, we have to let your parents know what a fine young man you have turned out to be."

"I take it then, that I have passed your test."

"Indeed, my dear Draco, indeed."

…………………………………

**A.N:** Rather a dark chapter, eh? It echoes my mood, somehow. Anyway, now you all know who Morgan really is. What could this mean for Harry and Morgan's future if any? Keep reading and keep reviewing. Lotsa things coming up-Morgan's story, the wedding, etcetra, etcetra…

**A.N 2:** Okay, I'm not great at handling death issues and if this chapter ain't realistic, don't flame me. Also, remember my brain isn't working too well, so if this chapter was disastrous, pleeeeeeaaaaaase forgive my food-poisoned soul…


	10. Haunted

**Author's note:** I'm beginning by apologizing yet again for not updating earlier-mild case of writer's block, that's all. And a BIG thank you to all those who reviewed-you can't imagine just how much it means to me. (Sounds soppy? Oh, well…)

**The Sorting Hat 100: **Alex, it's great to have my 'addicted reviewer' back! Thanks, I'm fine now, and I _did_ get your email btw.

**jeevesandwooster:** Hi there! My, when you say that, it's hard for an author to have writer's block:-)

**SummerOfFreedom: **That's sweet of you. I'm doing fine now. Yeah, I wish Sheena wasn't dead, but she had to go…

**Hayden Elrics: **Absolutely! She _was_ afraid that Harry and Co. would hit the right connection about her family. I was wondering why no one asked earlier! Keep reading!

**Cassandra Cheney: **Really? That's very reassuring, thanks a lot!

**Disclaimer:** (**Thought I'll just put it in once in a way**) I'm gonna be pleading insanity at court anyway, (continues in tone dripping with sarcasm) so I can safely claim that _I'm_ J.K. Rowling and _I_ created Harry Potter.

**Note: ** The funeral was on Tuesday morning and Morgan drops her bombshell on Harry that evening-just wanted to make that clear.

**Chapter 10: Haunted**

One week later 

Morgan sipped her cup of coffee, her mind emptied of all emotion as she sat alone at the table in a muggle restaurant-the same that she and Harry had been to on their blind date.

"What would you like to eat, ma'am?"

Morgan looked up at waiter blankly. "Er…let's see. How about," she paused and jabbed a random finger at an item in the breakfast menu, "some scrambled eggs and some toast?"

"Right away."

Morgan surveyed the place dully. Not many people were about and the few that were, were clearly engrossed in themselves or their newspapers. A man was entering now, looking around casually as he did so. Morgan didn't pay much attention to him until he walked right up to her table and spoke to her.

"May I sit here? I hate eating alone."

Morgan was not in the mood for company but didn't want to seem churlish and so nodded her consent. The stranger slid into the chair opposite her and it was only then that Morgan took a good look at him. He had brown hair and bright blue eyes and an easy smile but there was something vaguely familiar about him. The waiter placed her breakfast before her, interrupting her scrutiny. Then he took the stranger's order who turned to her again after the waiter left.

Nothing happened for a while after that-the two just concentrated on downing their respective breakfasts. Once they'd finished, the stranger spoke again.

"Now can we talk, Morgan?" His voice had changed from the earlier lighter to his usual deeper, slightly husky tone.

Morgan's head snapped up in disbelief. "H-harry?"

Harry smiled wryly. "Yes, it's me all right. No, I wasn't born a Metamorphmagus- I learnt the hard, oh-so-painful way. And you might want to close your mouth-the flies might get in. And you might also want to tell me why you're hiding from everyone."

"I'm not hiding," snapped Morgan. "I'm just-just giving myself some space…"

Harry raised one brown eyebrow. "Right."

"Why are you here, Harry?" asked Morgan tiredly.

"Well, after you enlightened me about your real name, you tore out of my flat before I could ask you anything else. So I'm still in the dark about your whole story. I gave you a week's time and now, frankly, my patience has run out," said Harry lightly.

"Isn't it enough that I told you who I really am, Harry?"

"No."

"Why?"

Harry considered. When he replied his tone was still light and bantering but his eyes were dead serious. "There was a boy who had a miserable childhood, but found his real home in a great wizarding school. Destiny was cruel, though. He was hounded by a megalomaniac and was manipulated since he was the only person who could bring down the power-hungry dark wizard. The boy accepted his destiny but decided to fight the war on his own terms. And so he never had time for love. Then came a time when a beautiful, witty, auburn-haired witch entered his life in an unusual way. And for the first time in his life this man was faced with the thought that he might be in love."

Harry continued still looking steadily at Morgan's face. "Morgan, maybe I'm wrong, but things happened so quickly, I just had no idea where we were headed. But I was beginning to be quite sure that I wanted to see you as some sort of constant in my life. And when you told me about you that day, I realized I knew nothing about you. Don't you think I deserve to know your story, and not just a snippet like the tantalizing excerpt from a highly awaited novel?"

Harry's heart was pounding as he waited for her reply. He didn't want to think about what he'd do if her answer was 'no'.

Morgan sat assimilating what Harry had just told her. He'd practically told her that he was in love with her. He didn't deserve to be saddled with someone like her but he certainly didn't deserve to be kept in the dark about her life. At least he was open minded and wanted to listen.

Harry watched Morgan's chin lift slightly signaling her determination. "All right, Harry," she said softly. "I'll tell you." Then came a slight attempt at humour. "But, I'd prefer it if you were out of that awful disguise, you know…"

…………………………………

They were in the small flat that Morgan had rented for the time being. Harry ran a hand through his now messy pitch-black hair and waited patiently for the girl in front of him to begin her tale.

"When Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange were sentenced to Azkaban, I was slightly less than a year old. Ordinarily, custody would've been granted to Lestrange's people, but since the only other surviving Lestrange, my Uncle Rabastan was also convicted along with them, I was handed into my Aunt Narcissa's care."

Morgan got up from the hard chair she was sitting on and began to walk about the tiny living-cum-dining room.

"I suppose my dear old mum must've instructed Narcissa to have me brought up in the strict Black tradition in addition to '_Toujours pur'_," Morgan grimaced slightly before she continued, "Because I don't ever recollect having any friends or being at the receiving end of the slightest affection."

"In fact, my earliest memory of my stay with the Malfoys is that of being whipped for having hugged my aunt, craving for some love."

"Their motto was 'Love is for fools' and according to them fools always died."

"They were also training me to avenge the fact that my parents were in Azkaban. So, Narcissa Malfoy made me look into her pensieve again and again and relive the courtroom scene. Yeah, she was there all right, though Lucius wasn't."

"That began when I was seven years old. My first question was why I had to avenge my parents when they'd clearly done something wrong. If my aunt had brainwashed me into thinking that my parents had done nothing wrong, perhaps now I wouldn't be here, who knows? But she punished me without an answer and that was her first mistake. Because now I knew I had spoken the truth."

"They hated the fact that I was being rebellious. They starved, whipped, cursed and still I'd refuse to accept their views. My aunt was disgusted with me and I…I was ashamed to call myself a part of their family."

"I tried running away once, maybe when I was eight years old, but they caught me. I think I've mentally blocked the consequences of that action from my mind. I just don't remember."

"I finally ran away when I was ten, when everyone was out and one of the house elves had been careless and had left my door unlocked. I don't remember how I went or where I ran, but I kept looking behind to see if someone was on my trail."

"Then I ran smack into a little girl with two golden braids on a village road…"

……**.Flashback…….**

"_Hey, watch where you're going!"_

"_I'm sorry! You were in the way, though…"_

_The golden-haired girl was about her own age. In an instant, two slightly younger tow-headed twin boys stood at her side, their fists raised protectively._

"_You hurt our sister!" shouted one angrily._

"_What's going on?" The voice was warm, yet warning. It belonged to a pretty, petite woman who had just come out of a nearby shop._

"_Mummy, this nasty girl hurt Sheena!" shouted the other twin._

_Maria Connelly glanced at the red-haired little girl who looked scared and defiant at the same time. Her eyes widened when she glanced at the bruises on the child's hands and the rather shabby outfit she was currently wearing._

"_I'm sure it was an accident, children. Pat, Brian, there's no need to yell. Sheena, stop sulking. What's your name, dear?"_

_Morgan looked frightened. "I…I…" she stuttered. Then she completely lost it when she gazed back at the kind blue eyes and threw herself into the strange woman's arms, sobbing incoherently…_

……**.End flashback………**

"Mrs. Connelly took me in and when my guardians showed up having magically traced me, she was a real dragon. She threatened to report them for child abuse when they mentioned she was doing something illegal by taking me. And when things turned nasty, she went to the Wizengamot."

"The Wizengamot held that she couldn't adopt me since my parents were still alive, but Dumbledore declared that she would be my new guardian in the light of the way the Malfoys had treated me. And that was that. The Malfoys never forgave the Connellys for what they did."

"As for me, I had friends for the first time in my life and I was supremely happy."

"Hogwarts, of course, was next and though I did see my horrible cousin there, I wasn't awfully bothered by it. But in my fourth year, Voldemort got my parents and other death eaters out of Azkaban and my nightmares began."

"My mother was furious at what she termed my 'betrayal' because she came to Hogsmeade once the year after that and told me to change my errant ways and return to my real family. I refused. She would have killed me but I think she decided that torture was a better punishment instead. So, she plotted to kill Sheena whom she knew was my best friend."

"The war intervened and her focus turned elsewhere, but I still feared for all the Connellys' safety. But they laughed and told me not to worry."

"And now, she's struck at last. And how! She sent _darling_ Draco to play on Sheena's romantic ideals and knew I would do everything in my power to stop it. That's why Sheena and I quarreled. That's why Sheena died."

Morgan turned and looked out of the window feeling drained. Harry observed her, wondering how anyone's _back_ could be so expressive of emotion. All through he had remained silent but was secretly worried about the emotionless rendering of the tale. Now he got up and joined Morgan in looking out at the bustle in the street below.

"You know you had another aunt?"

"Really? She must've been a good one since no one mentioned her."

"Yeah. Andromeda Tonks. Married a muggle-born. One daughter, Nymphadora Tonks who is in fact an Auror and Metamorphmagus to boot."

"Oh." Morgan digested this new bit of information in silence. "How do you know all this, Harry?"

"Sirius."

"Uncle Sirius," breathed Morgan. "He was the only one they mentioned because they took derived a lot of amusement from the fact that he was in Azkaban. He was my childhood hero."

Harry smiled slightly. "You're a lot like him, more than you think."

"My mother killed him." The grey eyes looked haunted and sad.

Silence.

Harry put his arm around Morgan and she didn't push him away. They stood like that for a long time, knowing that their relationship had changed and that things would have to go slowly from now on, one step at a time.

………………………………………….

**A.N:** No cliffhangers this time, yay! Whatta tiresome chapter! Next chapter: Choices Next to next chapter: The Wedding

**WARNING:** Right, it's time to confess. I never had any idea where this story was going from the beginning. I had only thought of a 'blind date' and that's all. I still have no idea where this is going. I type everything impromptu. If you guys want me to stop, say so. Then it's goodbye fanfic.


	11. Choices

**Author's note:** Okay, I'm just 2 reviews away from hitting the 50-review milestone! Wow!

**SummerOfFreedom: **Actually, I prefer black hair on Harry! Thanks for the encouragement-glad you're okay with the storyline:-)

**jeevesandwooster: **(author smiles goofily) Thank you so much! I will not leave you 'high and dry', don't you worry…

**Elphie73: **Hey, don't worry about not reviewin'. I understand. I'm glad at least one person thought the story was believable and I'll do my best to keep it that way. Thanks a lot!

Three people thought I should continue with the tale so this is for them.

**Chapter 11:** **Choices**

"Less than two weeks now," said Ron quietly. "In less than two weeks from now, I'll be a married man."

Harry looked at the person he considered a brother and smiled lazily. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to becoming 'Uncle Harry'…"

Ron turned beet red and fell silent looking rather dreamy all the same.

"Harry?" came a voice from the fireplace.

Harry knelt down to speak to Morgan. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the Burrow with Hermione. Harry, listen, I'm sorry I won't be able to come this evening."

"Why?" he asked frowning slightly.

Morgan's eyes turned pleading. "There's something I have to attend to. I hope you understand."

Harry nodded, his green eyes reflecting his support. "Take care and don't worry-everything's going to be all right."

"Yeah…Hi Ron," she added, looking over at the redhead. No response. Morgan's puzzlement crept into her voice. "What's wrong with him?" she asked Harry.

Harry grinned. "Something I said about my becoming a godfather soon," he replied in a loud whisper.

Morgan giggled, her face lighting up in her mirth. "You meanie!"

"That's the only way to stop him from spouting that annoying countdown to his wedding," said Harry solemnly. It felt good to see Morgan laugh even if it was for a silly reason.

"I've got to go now Harry. Be good," she added waggling a finger.

Harry cut her off by brushing his lips against hers. She wasn't expecting it, but responded briefly before pulling away with obvious reluctance.

Harry didn't miss her warm smile as she retracted her head from his fireplace.

"I saw that, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor," said Ron in an uncanny impersonation of Snape.

"Shut up, Weasley!"

………………………………….

Morgan sat uncomfortably on the cozy armchair. Normally the chair would have her lounging about in a very un-ladylike manner, but today wasn't, it seemed, destined to be 'normal'.

Maria Connelly glanced at Morgan; afraid to say something that might hurt the girl. The silence lay heavily between them, full of anxiety and fear and doubt.

"I'm sorry," said Morgan softly, deciding to break the oppressive stillness.

Mrs. Connelly took a deep breath. "You don't have to be."

"I…" began Morgan, but was interrupted.

"No, Morgan. Listen to me," said Mrs. Connelly earnestly. "You mustn't blame yourself for this. I can't have you wallowing in unjustified guilt, all right? It kills me to see you this way."

"But…"

"Don't you understand?" The gentle blue eyes filled with tears. "I can't lose you as well," said Mrs. Connelly, her voice breaking.

Morgan sat there, feeling ashamed of herself. She had been so selfish, thinking only of her sorrow. She didn't know what to say, but she got up and hugged the older woman who had been and was the only mother she knew.

…………………………

"What are you planning to do now?"

Morgan stared at Mrs. Connelly uncomprehendingly. "Um…what do you mean 'what am I planning to do now'?"

Mrs. Connelly nonchalantly handed the washed plate to Morgan to dry. "You know what I mean."

"No, I don't."

"Well, we both know that your bakery job wasn't going to last for long, Morgan. You were destined for something else."

Morgan went very still. It was quite a while before she replied. "I didn't know I was that bad at baking," she said wryly.

"Actually, you are even better than I am at baking," said Mrs. Connelly slowly. "But, I think it should remain more a hobby in your case, not a profession."

Morgan smiled slightly. "Sheena always said I was wasted in my job."

"And I agree with her. You were always afraid to join the war, Morgan. I think it's high time you conquered that fear."

Morgan's heart began to beat faster. _She can't be serious _she thought frantically. She listened apprehensively as Mrs. Connelly went on.

"It might seem that I'm asking you to exact revenge for Sheena's death. But it's not so. I know you are a fighter at heart. And you need to do this for your own sake. Your place is by Harry's side. I just know it. I can feel it in my bones."

"I-I can't endanger your, no, _my_ family."

"Think of it this way, my dear. You're going to be protecting us."

Morgan gazed at the cheerful fire, lost in thought for a long time. Yes, she'd never involved herself in anything to do with the war simply because she was a coward and didn't want to lose the only family she had. But now when she pondered over it, she couldn't help but realize that she was just giving her maniacal parents more excuses to make her life miserable. And then, there was Harry…

Morgan sighed slightly before looking straight into her guardian's eyes.

"I've made my choice. I just hope it's the right one."

…………………………………………..

Hermione ran a brush through her hair, which she had now managed to tame from its earlier bushiness to a more manageable set of soft curls. Today she'd got a lot of work done thanks to all that help from Morgan.

Morgan.

Hermione had been rather shocked when Harry had confirmed that Morgan was indeed a Lestrange. Harry hadn't commented further (though Hermione was dying to know the whole story), saying it would be unfair to Morgan if he told them her story.

However Morgan herself hadn't wanted Harry's friends to be left in the dark so, later, when she was in the right frame of mind to do so, they had a long talk about it all.

That had cleared the air quite a bit and Morgan had been relieved that no one had judged her based on her history. And she and Hermione, though far from being the best of friends, were getting along very nicely indeed.

Hermione smiled as she recollected their conversation earlier that day.

"_How about the wedding cake?"_

_Hermione smirked. "_Cakes and Bakes _are taking care of it."_

"_I should've guessed," said Morgan, smiling._

_They went through the invitation list to make sure no one had been left out. Hermione felt like saying something to Morgan, but couldn't bring herself to do so._

"_Is there something you want to tell me?"_

"_How did you know I wanted to tell you something?" asked a surprised Hermione._

"_Well, you keep glancing at me weirdly, then you shake your head ever so slightly and then repeat that process every five minutes…"_

"_I see," said Hermione then thinking there was no point in hiding things, "I think I'm jealous of you," she said honestly._

_Morgan sat in stunned silence before she answered disbelievingly. "Why?"_

"_You are quite perfect you know-beautiful, athletic, a great cook-everything I'm not…"_

"_I'm **not** perfect," said Morgan quietly, "I have an awful temper, I'm impatient, reckless…and have you even thought for a second that I might be slightly jealous of you?"_

_It was Hermione's turn to be stunned. "Why?"_

"_You are intelligent, you're Harry's best friend, you are sure of what you want and you stand up for your principles. I know lots of people who would kill to be you," said Morgan simply._

"_I think we've just…sort of misunderstood each other completely," said Hermione at last._

"_Yeah... Oh, and one more thing, you may not be a good cook or a quidditch player, but you **are** beautiful. Stop having such a low opinion of yourself."_

_They grinned at each other and Hermione hugged Morgan impulsively. She really missed having a good girl friend to talk to ever since Ginny had taken up a demanding career._

"_Thank you, Morgan."_

"_Aww, stop it. We'll be weeping over each other, next," drawled Morgan, though she was secretly glad that Hermione had accepted her fully at last._

"_Right. So why don't we get back to that list, Finley," said Hermione bossily._

_Morgan groaned and grumbled but picked up the list all the same…_

Hermione gave her hair one last brush before climbing into bed and falling into a dreamless slumber.

………………………………………………

"I want to fight," said Morgan suddenly the next evening when she and Harry were lazing about on his sofa.

"What?" asked Harry stupidly. They'd been talking about the recent quidditch match between the Cannons and the Tornadoes, so the sudden change in topic threw him off guard.

"I want to fight. In the war. Against Voldemort," stated Morgan patiently.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "It's a bit too late to join the Auror Academy, you know."

"I'm not talking of the Auror Academy," scoffed Morgan. "**You **know better than anyone else, that you don't have to be an auror to fight."

"What exactly are you implying here?"

"I want you to train me."

"Impossible."

"Why?"

Harry got up from the sofa, feeling annoyed. "I just can't train anyone like that. And why the devil do you want to join the war, anyway? You're good at that baking thing, aren't you?"

"I think you know why."

Harry shook his head desperately. "Morgan, war isn't something you go to just because you want to avenge someone. It goes deeper than that. I can't explain. And it's not… pleasant."

"I know. I also know that I'm not going into war just to 'avenge someone'. And you know it too. What's your real reason?" Morgan raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"I can't let you fight because I don't want anything to happen to you," said Harry resignedly.

Morgan felt a hot surge of anger but controlled it with difficulty. "Harry James Potter. THAT is the most chauvinistic thing I've ever heard in my life. Look, if you're going to be busy fighting Snake Face, you won't have time to protect me. Therefore, I will need to protect myself. So, whether you like it or not, you're going to have to train me. And that's that."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose frustratedly. He knew she was telling the truth, but he didn't want to see her hurt. But he could see she would be a useful fighter…

He jumped slightly when he felt Morgan's hand massage the back of his neck gently, but relaxed immediately. "I don't know…" he said helplessly.

"Please?"

"Those eyes can beg Ron to part with his old chessboard," his teasing tone belying the worry he was feeling. "All right," he conceded finally, "I'll test your abilities and we'll see if you are really up to it."

Morgan nodded happily. "Fine. You won't regret this, I promise."

"We'll see."

………………………………………………

**A.N:** Short and slightly pointless chapter, but we authors like to drag things out a bit, I guess (wink).

Next chapter: The Wedding (Ah, finally. I might split it into parts like I did 'The Date'. I'll have to see…"

Please review. I wanna see that 50 against 'reviews'…

Oh, and by the way, I'm trying to finish this story by the time HP & HBP comes out. So I'll have to update faster than this!


	12. The Wedding

**Author's note:** Yippee! 50 reviews at last! I never thought I'd see the day…Can now die happily. Er…no, not yet, not until I watch all of Johnny Depp's movies!

**Elphie73**: Thanks a lot. I think ya already know how much your reviews mean to me…

**violetsnicket:** Really? Yeah, I like Morgan too (ha ha ha)! Thank you for reviewin'!

**HaydenElrics: **Naughty you-reading fanfiction with your exams and everything! (Hey, I'm not complaining)… As for Morgan n Harry arguing- just wait and see:-)

**The Sorting Hat 100:** Alex…Thanks a lot! Will certainly incorporate your suggestion. Hope you're studyin' hard! You read 'Consequences' all over again? (Here, author grins idiotically) Wow!

**SummerOfFreedom: **Heya! No problem about your late review. Thanks a lot! (for taking the time to review, I mean.)

**A.N 2:** Please forgive me for the late update, but college has begun and the first week has been absolutely killing, what with all our lecturers setting us difficult assignments already. I hope you all understand :-)

**Chapter 12: ** **The Wedding**

Part 1: A Test and A Temper

Morgan surveyed Harry's office curiously. The oval room was sparsely furnished with a desk and a chair and would have looked like a monk's cell but for the shelves lining the walls. It would make anyone giddy to look at all the funny instruments and weapons and books and various other things that no one (but Harry) knew the names of.

"So?"

Morgan looked at Harry and allowed a small grin to grace her face. "Yeah…bit overwhelming…"

Harry glanced slyly at her. "What will you say when you see the training arena, I wonder?"

"Stop showing off. There isn't any need to impress me any further," replied Morgan archly.

Harry grinned again. "This way m'lady," he said, bowing in an exaggerated manner.

……………………..

"Right. So here's what you have to do. You have to duel with three of our people and we'll judge your abilities based on that."

"So, I have to beat all three of them to be eligible for training. Is that what you're saying?" asked Morgan coolly.

"Exactly."

"What if I lose one of the duels or something?"

"Rules are rules. You lose any one and you don't pass the entrance test. Simple as that."

"Right."

"Good luck, Morgan."

……………………..

Ella Green flipped her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder and clasped her wand in a manner born of a champion dueler. She stared at Morgan whom she'd seen before when Sheena Connelly had died. _So, this auburn haired witch is Harry's girlfriend. Interesting. I never thought I'd be dueling with a baker…_

………………………

"You're up with Ella Green, first," said Armand West, one of Harry's highly trusted colleagues, briskly. "If you beat her, you make it to the next round. We'll be watching you, of course, analyzing your aura and your skills. Is that clear?"

Morgan looked at Armand's serious face and nodded. She quickly glanced about for Harry, but he wasn't there. _So, he left it to his deputy to decide whether or not I'm fit. How diplomatic,_ she thought bitterly.

She turned her attention to the training arena. It was like an indoor stadium without the spectator seats. It was enclosed in a huge glass dome and was illuminated from some unknown source of white light within.

The duel would take place inside while the Watchers (West and another bespectacled sandy haired young man called Bryan) would be outside with a special crystal screen for in-depth analysis of the whole test.

Morgan swallowed, smiled nervously at West, who smiled back reassuringly, and walked into the arena.

………………………….

West's voice came booming out of nowhere. "All right. Round One. Finley versus Green. Remember this is a free duel. No rules. First one to be down for ten seconds loses. Begin on the count of three."

Morgan gripped her wand tighter and looked evenly at her opponent. _She looks very confident,_ she thought. _Perhaps I could use that fact to bring her down…_

"One"

Ella smirked at her opponent. Morgan gazed back at her expressionlessly.

"Two"

Ella raised her wand. Morgan didn't move.

"Three"

"_Expelliarmus," _yelled Ella.

But Morgan had her shield charm ready and the disarming spell was averted.

Suddenly, the stark whiteness of the arena changed. It took on the form of a jungle terrain. The sudden shift surprised Morgan, disrupting her concentration. Ella took the opportunity to send a slicing charm her way, which nicked her shoulder with a sharp sting. Morgan ducked behind a large tree, to think for a moment and to grimace in pain.

Great. Not even the first five minutes of the duel up and I'm already injured. Wait a minute. I have to stick to my tactic of getting her overconfident. So this is a good thing. 

"Hey, Finley. Chickened out already? Come on, I bet that was only a tiny scratch. Not afraid of pain, are you? Duelling isn't a piece of cake, is it?" Ella was sorry that her opponent was so easy to beat and chuckled at her own wit.

"You're right, Green. Duelling isn't a piece of cake. But I'm only a baker. Go easy on me," called out Morgan, thinking very fast at the same time.

Ella's lip curled scornfully. "Begging now, are we? Come on out an we'll get this over with."

…………………………..

Outside, West looked incredulously at the screen. Bryan grinned at his superior.

"Ella's falling for Finley's trap, isn't she?" he asked cheekily

West shook his head wordlessly. "I don't believe it. And Ella's one of the best."

"Finley is just plain clever," said Bryan wisely. _And how_, he thought to himself, smiling.

……………………….

"_Stupefy._" Ella expected the girl in front of her to keel over, motionless, but watched in horror as the figure dissolved into nothingness. _She's using illusions,_ she thought panicking.

Ella should have known better than to panic. (But she hadn't expected illusions from a mere baker, so one couldn't really blame her). Things really began to go downhill for her from there.

A couple of illusions, a stunning spell and ten seconds later, Morgan had won round one of her test.

…………………………..

"That was really good Finley," said Ella ruefully.

"Thanks. You panicked. That helped. A lot."

"Guess I deserved that. Good luck anyway." Ella turned and walked away briskly though her slightly drooping head told the real story.

…………………………

"Her aura isn't very clear yet because she isn't using her full power," explained Bryan to West. "I know that's not a good explanation, but that's the only thing I could think of, " he admitted, when West looked questioningly at him.

"What's going on here," asked a new voice. West whipped around and smiled his welcome.

"You just missed Ella's spectacular defeat, Ron," he said to his red haired colleague.

"Who?"

"Morgan Finley. Know her?" West asked slyly.

"Morgan…" said Ron thoughtfully. "Oh, so that's why Harry was looking a little tense yesterday. He didn't tell me she wanted to join," he added, feeling a little annoyed. Then he brightened. "She beat Ella? Good. That witch was getting too big for her boots. Time she came back to earth."

"Finley still has two rounds to go."

"Who's she up against next?"

"The lots decided it would be Neville Longbottom," replied West. "Then we use the lots again to decide her third opponent if she gets past Neville."

Ron's brow furrowed in worry. "Neville's tough."

"Yeah…so what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be doing some last minute shopping with your future mother-in-law?"

Ron reddened. "Yeah…now you know why I'm here. Told her I had to discuss some important security stuff with Harry. Where is he, by the way?"

"He's just attending to some paperwork. He's in his office."

Ron frowned again. "I'll be right back, Armand."

"Right." West turned back to the screen that analysed the matches, showed the duellers' auras and various other magical terms that were all Elven runes to a laywizard or witch. Obviously, West and Bryan were not laypeople and they were beginning to get highly intrigued about what the screen was displaying to them.

………………………………………………………..

"You're behind this, aren't you? You manipulated the lots, didn't you?" demanded Ron chidingly.

Harry took off his glasses, wiped them slowly and deliberately before restoring them to their original position. He ignored the strange sound that came from the person behind him-Ron was grinding his teeth.

"I only manipulated the first two. Against Ella _and_ Neville-she won't make it. Armand's picking the last lot, if Morgan gets through round two," said Harry calmly.

"You bloody git! She'll blow her blood vessels if she finds out!" blurted Ron, looking thoroughly miffed. "Why, in Merlin's name, don't you want her to join? She just needs a little training to hone her skills…"

Harry sighed. "It's complicated," he began, then hastily continued when Ron treated him to an icy look. "I swear I won't manipulate the last lot, all right? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to meet Paul and Wendy and see whether they've mastered the spells they had difficulty with yesterday." He was out of his office so quickly that Ron didn't have time to ask any questions.

"You're not going to get away so easily, Harry," said Ron talking aloud to himself. His face now bore an evil grin that would make Fred and George proud. "_I'm_ going to manipulate the lots."

…………………………………….

Morgan looked nervously at Neville who stood opposite her waiting coolly for the match to begin.

_This is the guy who's parents were tortured to insanity by my mother _she thought sadly. _And he knows who I really am. I can see it in his eyes._

Neville Longbottom gazed calmly at the beautiful young woman in front of him, determined not to be taken in by the false look of fear and vulnerability she had on her face. _I have to be careful. She's not as weak as people take her to be. _He took a deep breath as West began his count of three. _I must remember that she is not like her mother._

"…three!" cried West.

"_Petrificus totalus!" _

Morgan had barely time to duck behind a large tree and was left breathless by the force behind such a simple jinx. She came out from her refuge and sent a clever blinding spell at him, which he averted without difficulty.

Morgan now knew she didn't stand a chance against a highly trained wizard like Neville, but was determined not to lose. Without losing much time she did the first thing that came to her mind.

……………………………………………………

West shook his head wonderingly for the second time that day. "I can't believe _you _fell for that," he said, addressing Neville.

Neville shrugged and waved to Hermione who had just come in and was making her way towards them. She caught sight of Morgan, who was standing just outside the arena and smiled at her. Morgan's mouth curved in a way that could mean anything from 'I'm okay' to 'Please help me. A shark has its teeth around my ankle.'

Hermione smiled again, mouthed a 'Good luck' and wended her way towards Neville and the others.

"Why do I get the feeling that meeting a sabre-toothed tiger would be far pleasanter than a tête-à-tête with you at the present moment?" asked Neville.

"When did you start spouting sarcasm, Neville?" asked Hermione shaking her head as if she were reprimanding a naughty five year old. Her expression turned to the 'I'm-cheesed-off-stop-bugging-me' look. "Where's Ron?" she asked in a dangerous tone.

Neville, West and Bryan grinned. This was going to be fun.

"Over there," said Neville helpfully. Sure enough, a tall flame headed figure was approaching them and its manner, one couldn't help but notice, was decidedly lacking in enthusiasm.

"Ronald Bloody Weasley."

The audience's grins became wider. Hermione angry was a sight to see, but Hermione angry and swearing was manna itself.

"H-hermione," stuttered poor Ron, "What are you doing here?"

"That was what I was going to ask you."

Ron decided it was time to change the subject. "Did you know Morgan was going to train? She beat Ella and Neville."

Hermione frowned at his escaping tactics but was interested in spite of her annoyance. "She told me about her decision to train. How did she beat Neville?"

"She just pointed behind him and yelled 'Snake!' and in the split second Neville turned around, she disarmed him and then stunned him," piped up Bryan.

"I can't believe you fell for that," said Hermione glancing at Neville, who shrugged and muttered 'Not my day' embarrassedly.

"Who's she up against next?" asked Ron and Hermione together. Hermione looked suspiciously at her fiancé, wondering why he had an unconvincing expression of innocence on his face.

West shook his head. "Chief hasn't told us yet. Oh, here he comes."

Harry was striding towards them, his hair looking messier than usual. His face also looked uncharacteristically grim.

"Hello there, Chief, who's she up against next?" Armand hailed Harry cheerfully.

"Stop calling me 'Chief'," responded Harry automatically. (All their conversations began in this manner.) "Hi Hermione. How was lunch? Ron, you shouldn't have meddled with the lots. Your attempt didn't work."

Hermione glared at Ron, who looked flabbergasted that Harry knew that he had tampered with the lots so that Morgan would get an easy opponent.

"So, whom does she have to duel now?" asked Ron, but he already knew the answer.

"Me," replied Harry solemnly. "This is going to be awkward."

"Rules are rules, Harry," said Armand. "Sounds silly, but Kay will be furious if you don't do this."

Harry knew what Kay McBride was like. Tough, disciplined and impartial to all including her best men Potter, Weasley and West. She was also the head of their defence and intelligence organization (unimaginatively dubbed 'the Syndicate'), which meant everyone, including Harry, her second-in-command, was ultimately answerable to her. There was no way he could shirk dueling with Morgan.

"I'll just go and break the news to Morgan," said Harry quietly.

…………………………………………….

News always spread faster than wildfire in the Syndicate. And Commander McBride was very interested when she heard the latest news. For the first time, Harry Potter would duel a prospective entrant and the fact that the entrant was his girlfriend made the whole thing all the more interesting.

Kay McBride smiled to herself. Harry might have got the lots to listen to him the first two times but they had a mind of their own and were getting their own back. _He asked them to give Ms. Finley the toughest opponent yet and they chose him. And poor Ron tried to get them to choose an easy opponent and they complied. If he so wished, Harry could go easy on her, being her boyfriend and everything._

Not a trick escaped Commander McBride. She knew it was just like Harry and Ron to bend rules and she let them face the consequences of their actions.

But for now, she was going down to the arena so as to not miss out on all the fun.

………………………………………..

"Who's my last opponent?" asked Morgan, relieved that Harry had at last come to see her and congratulated her on her two wins.

Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I am," he acknowledged resignedly.

Morgan's mouth dropped open in horror. "No!" she exclaimed, "This isn't fair!"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "Why not?"

Morgan opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by Armand West's magically magnified voice telling them to take their positions in the arena.

Morgan's expression clearly stated that she wasn't ready for the final confrontation and the fact that the number of spectators had just increased to include the entire Syndicate didn't help matters. If she wasn't mistaken, the woman in the electric blue robes was Commander McBride herself.

Harry's heart was hardened as opposed to Morgan's, which had just sunk. He muttered a 'good luck' and walked away.

…………………………………………

The arena was no longer the convenient jungle terrain where hiding places were aplenty. It was a desert- a parched wasteland with miles of nothing but sand and radiating searing heat.

Morgan's first feeling was one of acute dismay. For one, there was no place to duck or hide and for another, it was unbearably hot in her battle robes. She looked across at Harry who was dressed in a pair of loose white trousers and was shirtless. Another time she might have drooled over his athletic body, but not now. She couldn't transfigure her robes- she was risking losing some minor spell-repelling properties. But she had to do something or she would die of sunstroke before losing spectacularly to her boyfriend.

Harry knew he could beat Morgan by pressurizing her into becoming reckless. His plan was to intimidate her so that she would have no option but to make mistakes. A simple and effective plan. He even made his expression unreadable so it would drive her crazy anticipating what he'd do next. And there was no need for him to say anything. Only preserve an infuriating silence.

Morgan stared at the green-eyed Adonis in front of her, feeling for the first time that she was glad she wasn't his enemy when it suddenly it hit her. Harry was trying to intimidate her and she didn't like it one bit.

What was originally a brilliant strategy on Harry's part now revealed an imminent flaw. Morgan didn't act as expected. Instead of succumbing to the pressure, her reaction was one of cold fury. That wasn't a good sign at all.

"One," came West's count. Both Morgan and Harry seemed frozen, the air electric with suspended action,so much so that Hermione gripped Ron's hand next to her, her anger forgotten.

Everyone was focused on the pair inside the arena. No one spoke and even Kay's face seemed unusually tense.

"Two" What happened next happened so fast that it left everyone breathless. Morgan had raised her wand and created a sudden sand storm that seemed to be driven by her own anger. It blinded Harry, who was trying to stop the unstoppable. He had no other go but to concentrate hard to change the terrain. In a split second the change occurred. The sandstorm had died down; the sands had made way for the more pleasant ambience of undulating grassland.

Morgan grinned. "This is much better, don't you think?" she asked conversationally. Technically, she hadn't violated any rules because she hadn't attacked Harry directly before the count of three.

West had paused mid-count, his brain still trying to assimilate what had just happened. Kay frowned at him and he recovered.

"Three!" he finished, signaling the start of a deadly duel.

………………………………………….

Bryan blinked at the crystal screen puzzledly. Something very funny was happening. "COMMANDER!" he yelled urgently.

Kay McBride sauntered over. "Are you dying, Bryan?" she asked kindly. "If you aren't there's no need to screech like a banshee and give other people heart attacks."

Bryan grinned distractedly, which put McBride on high alert. "What is it?" she asked briskly.

"This," replied Bryan, pointing to the screen. Armand, Ron, Hermione and Neville came over, curious to know what caused Bryan's ouburst. Hermione gasped when she saw what was being displayed.

"Are you sure this is right?" asked the bushy-haired witch anxiously.

Bryan gave her a look that confirmed the fact.

"What the _hell_ is that?" asked Ron roughly while the others watched silently.

The crystal screen displayed the magical auras of witches and wizards and how their movement, colour and behaviour indicated the power of that magical person. Harry's aura was a shimmering white which danced around him as he dueled. It showed he derived his strength from raw magical energy- the mark of a very powerful wizard.

Morgan's aura, which was very hazy earlier, was now beginning to shimmer as well but it was black. It was like looking at light and darkness at the same time-it was as rare as it was beautiful.

But what was most intriguing was the fact that the two auras seemed to be reaching towards the other each time either of the duelers cast a spell.

"Their auras are Mingling," said Hermione in an awed voice.

"I can see _that_," said Ron impatiently. "Why is it happening?"

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Mingling, Ron, as in a phenomenon, not a plain verb. Auras rarely Mingle, but when they do, the two participants will never be able to fight each other _ever_."

"Like brother wands?" asked Neville quietly.

"No. Auras always Mingle between a wizard and a witch. It indicates that magically and emotionally they are so compatible that their auras trust each other completely so as to become one. Each of the participants has double the magical powers and the two become equal in every sense of the word. It's a little more complicated than that, but that's the gist."

There was a stunned silence. Kay cleared her throat. "So, Harry becomes more powerful now?"

"Yes, I suppose so," replied Hermione. "Morgan too," she added.

"I see."

The screen was now showing what was otherwise invisible to the naked eye. A particle from each aura met, alternately glowing white and becoming dark and suddenly there was a cloud of sparks around Harry and Morgan completely enveloping them. When it cleared, the spectators let out an involuntary sigh at the sight of . Shimmering gold which looked like smoke and water at the same time surrounded the two of them and at that moment both cast a spell at the other simultaneously.

…………………………………….

Harry didn't know what was happening- the air seemed charged, and he was feeling rather strange. He could feel Morgan's aura-it felt familiar, comfortable.

Morgan didn't know how she was doing it, but she was able to predict every one of Harry's spells and even cast a few of her own. But they weren't progressing at all. They might have been just standing there doing nothing at all and yet the atmosphere seemed to have a different feel. And Harry's aura-she knew it was raw magic and she felt nothing, only understanding.

Both felt the sparks when they happened, but neither knew what was happening. And after that they felt different. Without realizing they cast the same spell at the same time and were simply knocked out.

………………………………….

"You're an exception, Morgan. That's why you're part of the Syndicate now," said Kay simply.

They had woken in the hospital wing a few hours later and had been updated on what had occurred. Kay had decided that because Morgan was now Harry's equal, the whole Test made no sense anymore and had straight away included her in the organization.

Morgan smiled and everyone congratulated her, filing out one by one until she and Harry were left alone. Morgan remained silent when Harry looked at her from his cross-legged position on his bed.

"Hey," he said softly.

Morgan looked up. "You miserable, monstrous, beastly…_creature_," she said slowly and venomously.

Harry blinked. Unless he was mistaken, Morgan wasn't happy with him. "What?" he asked bewildered.

Morgan flared up. "_You _tried to intimidate me. Kay implied that _you_ manipulated the lots. In spite of that, I passed. You never even came to check on me or support me in any way. In short, you're a complete moron. I hate you!"

Harry's eyes flashed green fire. "Excuse me? I didn't manipulate the lots the third time…"

"So you _did_ manipulate them! You're a chauvinistic prat, after all. Wonderful!" The sarcasm was biting.

"Morgan," began Harry, but was cut off.

"And to top it all, our auras decided to Mingle. So we have to fight every fight together. I don't know whether to laugh or cry…" she broke off with a half-laugh, half-sob.

"I didn't have anything to do with the auras Mingling," said Harry quietly.

"Yeah…but you messed with my test," retorted Morgan.

"Well, you did all right, didn't you? You managed to _charm_ your way into the third round," said Harry before he could stop himself.

"Are you suggesting that I cheated?" asked Morgan dangerously.

"No, you were just lucky, I guess," said Harry tiredly.

"So you're saying my magical ability was stunted before this Mingling business?"

"NO!"

"STOP YELLING!"

"LOOK WHO'S TALKING!"

"PRAT!"

Harry closed his eyes frustratedly. This was going nowhere and he hated arguments. He uncrossed his legs, got to his feet and walked out of the room, slamming the door.

…………………………………………………

One day later… 

Morgan sat in Hermione's rocking chair, staring unseeingly into the fire. Why had she lost her temper like that? She'd made a complete mess of things.

The doorbell rang and her heart jumped. She pulled open the door to see an obviously remorseful Harry standing unsurely in front of her.

"Morgan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…done what I did," he said lamely. He mentally kicked himself, but he'd forgotten his beautifully worded apology the minute he saw the person to whom it was originally addressed.

Green eyes met grey and time stood still for a moment. The next minute, Morgan launched herself into Harry's arms, hugging him tightly and apologizing over and over again for losing her temper. And quite naturally, the hug progressed into a passionate kiss which made all words redundant.

The loud clearing of a throat made them spring apart. Ron and Hermione grinned at them. "Are you two ever going to come inside? We apparated in long ago!"

………………………………………………..

"So, since Ron and Hermione are going to have a house of their own soon," said Harry slowly, not sure what Morgan's reaction was going to be, "Would you like to move into my flat?"

Morgan sat still. "You mean, to live with you?"

"No, to be my slave and do my bidding," said Harry sardonically. "All right, sorry, that wasn't nice of me."

To his surprise, Morgan smiled. "Not at all. Shows you've a sense of the ridiculous. And I'll move in after the wedding." She grinned again and put her arms around his neck. "Now can we get down to business?"

Harry shook his head. He was never going to figure her out or if he did, he'd have a whole head of snow-white hair by then.

……………………………………………………………..

**Part 2: The Ceremony**

Hermione was feeling very grateful to Morgan. For one, Ginny Weasley was maid of honour and Harry the best man, but Morgan told Hermione that she didn't want to butt in and be a bridesmaid and for that Hermione was grateful. Secondly, she was sure her hair was going to spoil her big day but Morgan had done something to it and it looked even better than it had done during their fourth year Yule Ball.

"This is better than any hair potion, trust me," said Morgan as she deftly did Hermione's hair. "Stay's longer too."

"Thanks Morgan."

"You look absolutely gorgeous," said a husky male voice from the doorway.

"Harry, I'm getting jealous," teased Morgan then smiled proudly. "She does look stunning doesn't she?"

Hermione smiled. The traditional wizarding wedding robes were made of clingy soft white material. There was delicate gold etching around the neck and sleeves and a decorative belt went around her slim waist. Her hair had been put up, a few errant curls framing her face. The outfit lent her softness and a glowing beauty that only brides can achieve.

"How's Ron?" she asked tentatively.

"Green in the face," said Harry cheekily, then relented and said, "Quite calm, really."

"Oh, darling, are you ready?" asked Anne Granger as she and Hermione's father Dan walked in.

"Ron won't know what hit him," claimed Ginny as she walked in wearing green robes that matched Harry's.

Hermione stood up, looking regal and Morgan went up to Harry.

"I'll be sitting next to Remus," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Harry smiled down at her and gave her a quick kiss before he went to Ron (He would have lengthened it but for Ginny saying, "You may now kiss the bride" in the background).

……………………………………………….

Ron was thinking clearly up to the moment Hermione entered the wedding hall. After that, he was in a daze and could only barely register what was happening. She looked so beautiful and so queenly and so…did he deserve her? Then she smiled and he forgot to doubt, forgot himself.

They were at the altar now, while Dumbledore revealed the fire to them before which they would take their vows. The flames danced merrily and they recited their vows, promising they would remain together through thick and thin, reaffirming their love for each other.

Harry brought forth the rings, which were levitated and sanctified by the ceremonial fire. They exchanged rings.

Dumbledore was saying, "Do you, Ronald Arthur Weasley, take Hermione Jane Granger to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." His blue eyes shone with love and happiness.

"And do you, Hermione Jane Granger, take Ronald Arthur Weasley to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." Her cinnamon eyes were very warm, brimming with feeling.

"By the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you man and wife." Dumbledore raised a goblet of wine and drank from it before saying, "Oh, yes, of course. You may now kiss the bride."

Cheers and applause filled the air as the new Mr. and Mrs. Weasley made their way down the aisle. Harry was feeling positively buoyant and Ginny who was on his arm, was grinning from ear to ear. He glanced at Morgan who was sitting in one of the front rows next to Lupin. Her eyes looked like she'd been crying but her face was wreathed in smiles as she talked to Remus. She caught his eye and gave him a small wave.

…………………………………………….

It was as if the whole wizarding world had turned up for the party. Harry had already made his rounds to double check the security and was now relaxing in the company of Neville and Ella, while couples everywhere (including the newlyweds of course) were dancing to a slow tune.

Harry had spotted Morgan long ago, dancing with almost every other wizard. Naturally, the general public knew nothing about his girlfriend (or the fact that he had one) so he said nothing, but couldn't help wishing he were one of those wizards.

Well, at least there was the cake…

……………………………………………….

"Wasn't it beautiful? I'm dead tired," said Morgan happily.

"You would be. You danced with every single wizard present," said Harry wryly.

"Jealous, are we?" said Morgan slyly.

"I did get one dance…"

"Whatever you say, Mr. Potter. I loved it anyway."

"What did you love?"

"Everything. The ceremony, the party, the cake (yes, the cake) and the dancing."

They were in Harry's flat, now, since Ron and Hermione were spending their wedding night in their new home. It felt strangely empty without Ron.

"Hey, you've got me now," said Morgan, slipping her hand through his and resting her auburn head on his shoulder.

She understood.

"Morgan? Shall we…" Harry trailed off when he saw she was fast asleep on his shoulder. He carefully eased it out from under her head, lifted her without waking her and carried her to her room. He tucked her in after taking off her slippers and transfiguring her robes into pyjamas (he had no idea how to make it a nightdress). He kissed her forehead softly and went to his room to acquire some much needed sleep.

…………………………………………………

**A.N:** Oh God! I'm sooooooo sorry about this chapter. I had writer's block in between and it was awful. Some parts were very mushy and clichéd. Please bear with me. I'll update faster, I promise.


	13. Treachery

**Dedication:** For jeevesandwooster, who doesn't much care for H/Hr fics! And for Alex-a peace offering from tardy ol' me. I don't know how many people read this fic, but I know you two do…so this is for you!

**Author's note:** Well…after a horrible and long case of writer's block, I've decided, with renewed determination, to finish this fic. You will forgive me if this chapter ain't very good…

**Chapter 13:** ** Treachery**

"Morgan," called Harry softly, shaking the cocoon of blankets that indicated its human occupant by means of the tangle of red hair at one end. "Morgan, get up. We leave in half an hour."

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed at what was visible of the person sleeping in it. A week had passed since Ron and Hermione's wedding, and this daily waking of his girlfriend and flat-mate was becoming a ritual. He knew what he had to do next. He grinned, lifted the blankets a little and tickled the soles of the slumbering redhead's feet.

Morgan stirred, an inarticulate noise in her throat representing her protest at being awoken early.

Harry's grin widened and one swift movement later, the blankets lay on the floor and Morgan lay shivering slightly on the bed, awake and glaring at her human alarm clock.

"I'm up, I'm up. Do you _have_ to wake me up so meanly?" she grumbled, sitting up reluctantly.

"I'm afraid so. Or you'll never get up. And Kay wants us in at 6 today. Some new trainees, I think."

Morgan groaned. "What's new?" Then she flopped back onto the bed and lay there, frowning at the ceiling. "I'm not going today. I want to sleep."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. She smiled at him-a cheeky smile tinged with some grogginess.

"You say that everyday," said Harry, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Be at the dining table in ten minutes." It was halfway between an order and a request, and with that he went out of the room.

Morgan stared after him for a while before getting out of bed at last, muttering darkly to herself. "Yeah…yeah…insane, I tell you! Five thirty in the morning…! WHAT?" For Harry had just called out to her.

"Ten minutes, Morgan!"

Morgan scowled and began brushing her teeth. "O eh wha?" she said indistinctly, which translated to "Or else what?"

…………………………………

Harry looked up as Morgan came in and slumped into the chair opposite his. "Good morning, Grumpy," he said teasingly.

Morgan stuck her tongue out at him childishly but grasped the coffee mug that was handed to her gratefully. She sipped at it, savouring the aroma and sighed thankfully. Harry's coffee was excellent as usual. A comfortable silence reigned for a while as Harry knew it was pointless to converse with Morgan till she had been fortified with her dose of caffeine.

"Ah…great coffee, Harry. Thanks!"

"Your welcome. Here, eat." He pushed a plate of buttered toast towards her.

"At dawn my appetite isn't exactly at its best," said Morgan looking at Harry innocently. "I don't want to eat."

"One slice, " wheedled Harry, knowing what was coming.

"No."

"Morgan…"

"No."

"Okay, _why_ won't you eat?"

"I told you," said Morgan sweetly, "I don't feel hungry this early in the morning."

Harry tried not to laugh. "What's the _real_ reason?" he asked blandly.

Morgan pouted. "Where's my morning kiss?"

Harry laughed this time. She was absolutely adorable. "Well, that's easily remedied," he said, getting up and moving towards her, eyes glinting mischievously.

……………………………………………………………

"What time did you go to sleep last night?" asked Morgan casually, raking a hand through her hair to give it some semblance of order, owing to the fact that the events of the last five minutes had lent to its present mussed state.

Harry, slightly befuddled thanks to the same events, replied without thinking. "Three a.m. roundabouts."

Morgan stopped trying to set her hair right and quickly pulled it into a high ponytail. "And you got up at five, I suppose," she said in the same casual tone.

Harry suddenly realized, too late, that he should have kept his mouth shut. Morgan wouldn't let him off very easily.

"Harry, you haven't been sleeping at all, this past week. _Two_ hours? No wonder, you're looking so tired all the time." Morgan gazed at Harry concernedly, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Morgan, we'll talk about this later, shall we? We have to be at the Arena in two minutes' time." Harry gathered his cloak and prepared to apparate, but found he couldn't. "Morgan, take the anti-apparition jinx off me," he said with forced calm.

Morgan smiled sweetly, but her voice was cold. "Threatening are we? I don't care if we're late. To hell with the new recruits." Her tone softened when she saw Harry's expressionless face. "I'm worried about you. You're not sleeping. Is this about Voldemort? Yeah, I know he's preparing for attack. There's impending doom and all that. You don't have to kill yourself worrying. You're not alone in this…"

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. "You don't understand. This is not…you're not…aarghh!" He glared at her, savagely satisfied at the hurt in her eyes. She lowered her wand and the two apparated without another word.

………………………………………………………………………

"No, Paula. You're wand movement is still flawed. Again!" Morgan patiently repeated the movement for the counter curse while the trainee looked on, a little nervously before trying it out herself.

"Better. Much better. Practice, all right. That will be all for today then. Good luck!" Morgan went over to where Harry had just finished with his new charge. He nodded to her, indicating that he was ready for their daily sparring practice.

Morgan had shown no signs of their having had a disagreement when she came into the Arena with Harry. But Harry knew that today's sparring practice was going to probably be the longest session he'd ever had…

…………………………………………………………………………

"Harry's been a little slow of late," commented Armand West to Neville Longbottom, as the two watched Harry and Morgan duel.

"Doesn't matter. He still knows what Morgan's next move will be," answered Neville absently. He was watching Morgan, who, according to him, seemed to be giving vent to her frustration rather than concentrating on her technique as she usually did.

"Must be something to have Mingling auras, huh?" said Armand still gawking at the speed of the two duelers.

"Hmmm."

As they were watching, Morgan muttered some curse that hit Harry, who was thrown backward and lay on the floor, unable to breathe. Morgan stood looking at him shocked, but recovered quickly to lift the spell off him before running to his side.

"Are you all right?" she asked frantically.

Harry sat up slowly with her help and looked strangely at Morgan. "What in the bloody name of Merlin was that?"

Morgan expression reflected genuine puzzlement and some fear. "I have no clue. Honestly, Harry, I was just…so…angry. I don't know. That curse came from nowhere. I could've…" She was breathing very fast, uncertainty and now open fear in her eyes.

"Can you remember it?" asked Harry a little harshly.

Morgan closed her eyes, trying to calm herself by breathing deeply. She opened her eyes, the grey depths now glistening with tears. "No…"

Harry merely looked thoughtful while Morgan bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. "Harry, I'm sorry," she said shakily.

Harry looked at her absently. "Don't worry about it." He patted her shoulder, still absently, got up and walked out of the arena, wondering why he didn't read that curse via the connection that bonded him and Morgan.

……………………………………………………………

Armand looked at Neville uneasily. "That was dark magic, that was," he stated finally. "It all fits, doesn't it? Harry not being able to read the curse, Morgan's original black aura…" he trailed off because Neville didn't seem to be listening.

Neville _had_ been listening, as a matter of fact, but chose not to comment. For now, he would just wait and watch this witch…as well as Harry's back of course.

……………………………………………………………..

The sun set in its usual splendid fashion and while here and there a romantic might have gazed at the scene it created, the sight went quite unnoticed by the practical section of the population.

Neville Longbottom was one such pragmatic. He had no time to waste on sunsets. He'd watched Morgan quite closely the whole day. The task had been made easier by the fact that Harry, after a quick scan that Kay forced him to undergo, disappeared to god-knows-where for the rest of the day, resulting in Neville taking his place in training recruits with Morgan. And afterward, Kay had given them both a piece of research to do- the two spent the whole afternoon thinking of a way to stop dementors from breeding at such an alarming rate. Which, Neville thought, had been a good way of keeping an eye on Morgan without arousing her suspicion. And now, she had just left, saying she had to go to that bakery she'd worked in earlier. After the morning's incident, she didn't seem very concerned that she might have just managed to finish off her boyfriend. Neville was doggedly determined to prevent her from inflicting harm on anyone. Harry, least of all. Yet, the situation was a tricky one, especially since Morgan had won everyone's trust. Everyone except himself, thought Neville grimly. He wasn't going to trust any Lestrange…

……………………………………………………………..

At _Cakes and Bakes_, the threat of Voldemort seemed distant and even laughable. The warm interiors, the hustle and bustle- all made one feel comfortable and alive. _I'm home_, thought Morgan, with a sigh of relief. The day hadn't been the best of days and she was glad to get to the bakery and work away all her troubles in the baking.

"Morgan, dear, come and give Naina a hand with the cookies," called Maria Connelly to the slender redhead whom she considered a daughter.

Hastily pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, Morgan went forward to help, completely unaware of what the near future held for her.

……………………………………………………………………

Neville was a little disappointed. She hadn't been lying after all. She was in the bakery, talking and laughing with the dark-haired woman next to her, attending to the customers and engaging in frequent light banter with the lady whom he knew to be Maria Connelly.

_Maybe I was mistaken,_ he thought, perplexedly. He gazed speculatively at his suspect one last time before turning to go. _It doesn't mean I'm going to stop keeping an eye on her_. Neville was so intent on his thoughts he'd let his guard down, something he'd been trained not to do but still did. Turning into another alley, he realized he was at a dead end and hit by a sudden disorientation, he didn't have a clue as to where he was.

"Well, well, well, what have we here? Weren't you warned that walking alone after dark in this street is dangerous business?"

Neville turned around slowly with a sinking feeling…

……………………………………………………………………..

Harry shut the book he was reading, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What he'd learnt had been very interesting and disturbing at the same time. The library was a peaceful place, but Harry was feeling far from peaceful at that moment.

And then there was Morgan. It all started and ended with her. He had absolutely no idea as to what to do.

_He loved her_.

_Didn't he_?

Harry frowned and took off his glasses, suddenly weary. He wasn't sure, but he could feel the something that had slowly crept between them. Something that prevented them from getting any closer.

Something that threatened to break what they had.

And that scared him more than anything else.

……………………………………………………………………………………

He was cornered. And by a dozen Death Eaters no less. How could he have been so careless? He wasn't afraid, only annoyed that he'd walked straight into their hands. Surreptitiously he set off a distress signal, which would hopefully alert all his colleagues to his predicament.

"What's the matter, Longbottom? Kneazle got your tongue?" taunted a voice from the rear, a voice he hadn't heard.

"Poor Longbottom, Potter's _dear_ sidekick, second only to Weasel and the mudblood Weasel," said a second voice from his left, a voice he knew only too well. _Malfoy_.

Amidst the laughter that followed a third voice spoke that made an involuntary go up his spine. "Longbottom, you disappoint me. We all thought you were auror material. But it seems to me that you're as pathetic as your poor brainless parents…" Malice and evil intent dripped from every word. He knew this person too and clenched his fists to stop himself from flinging himself at her and wringing her neck. Which, would, given the present state of affairs, be a very foolish thing to do.

The hooting and unpleasant laughter stopped and the air seemed to become slightly colder.

"He _is_ a brainless idiot after all. Look at him, standing like a poor dumb animal, cowering against the wall…_Avada Kedavra…_"

Neville dodged the flash of green light just in time and tried to apparate but couldn't. He let off a couple of well placed jinxes, stunning two death eaters, but was soon caught in the middle of a ring of the remaining death eaters.

_Ten on one_, thought Neville despairingly. _Where the hell is the back up force? _Then looking all around him and seeing no escape, he prepared to die fighting…

"_Crucio!_"

It had begun. In the many curses that followed, Neville lost track of time, trying to give back as good as he got, fighting valiantly.

A non-verbal curse hit him out of the blue straight in the chest causing him to bleed horribly. He was already weak and had lost the use of his wand arm because of a particularly nasty curse.

He was going to die…

"_Ashasyeth vabhasyan_," a new cold voice came from the other end of the alley, filling the place with a golden light that gathered around Neville, protecting him from further harm.

Bellatrix Lestrange turned around enraged at the intrusion. The newcomer wasted no time in halving the number of death eaters standing around their victim.

"I suggest you leave at once, before I make you all pay dearly for what you've done," said Morgan, her eyes afire, her face set and cold.

Bellatrix laughed mockingly at the girl. "_You_ are going to make me pay for doing the world a great favour by getting rid of fools like Longbottom?"

"Your theatrics fail to impress me…_mother_," came the sarcastic reply, knowing it would infuriate that woman.

"Don't forget I killed your brainless friend you blood traitor. Filth like the Connellys should be wiped out from the wizarding world."

But Morgan was something else that night. Her mind was clear and unafraid and she was not going to succumb to Bellatrix's mind games. After that she couldn't remember what happened, except that she fought dark magic with dark magic, astonishing the enemy with her mastery of dark magic-curses and jinxes, she knew them all as if they were a part of her. She fought by instinct and not by what she had been trained to do.

But she was not superhuman and received a fair share of cuts and curses, and she was sure a rib or two was broken and was finding it increasingly hard to breath. She was saved by the arrival of Harry and a group of aurors from the Ministry. The minute they came in, the death eaters vanished and Morgan, injured and exhausted, collapsed and slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

…………………………………………………………………………….

"She said she'd received a distress signal or something and that she had to leave immediately," said Maria Connelly tearfully.

Harry patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "She'll be all right," he said simply. Then he turned away, not mentioning to that Morgan had been the only one to receive the signal. Neville was alive, but in a coma, unable to tell anyone anything. Morgan was in better shape, but still unconscious. The aurors at the Ministry had detected high levels of dark activity in that area and had come to investigate and he had come with them. When they sourced the dark magic, most of it led to Morgan Finley.

Harry knew that she'd fought for Neville, but after the Ministry report, he suddenly knew what was bothering him.

Doubt.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Kay McBride was furious. She immediately called for a meeting, which everyone had to compulsorily attend. Except a couple of uncontactable honeymooners and a couple of comatose individuals, of course.

"What in the name of Merlin happened?" she demanded.

Harry filled her in on the facts.

"So, Morgan alone received Neville's signal?" asked the Commander skeptically. "What about the others? No one?"

Harry shook his head slowly.

Armand West spoke up. "Ministry reports are saying…"

"I _know_ what the Ministry reports are saying, Armand, and I'm afraid it doesn't look to good…"

"For whom? Morgan?" asked Harry angrily.

"Harry," said the Commander seriously, "You cannot deny that you didn't see her fighting the death eaters. For all you know, it was a set-up and she was hand-in-glove with them. No, listen to me. If she'd fought them, why didn't she use any of the magic you've been training with?"

Harry was overwhelmed by a confused mess of feelings. Anger, hurt, doubt, sadness, disbelief, trust, love…

"No, it can't be true. What you're saying doesn't make sense…"

"Why?"

"Why did she target Neville then? Why not me? It makes no sense…"

Armand spoke again. "She did target you, Harry. In the morning training session remember. And she's not stupid. Neville didn't trust her and was keeping an eye on her. She probably knew that and wanted to…" he trailed off, unable to bear the glare Harry was directing his way.

"What? Kill him? Get rid of him? It's not…she's not…" whispered Harry uncertainly, thinking of the morning's incident.

"Harry I'm sorry, but I have to suspend her till Neville comes around and can give us his side of the story," said Commander McBride sadly. "She betrayed us…" she added more to herself than anyone else, but Harry heard her all the same.

Pushing his chair back, he got up and walked out of the room, no expression in his brilliant green eyes, no emotion crossing his face.

……………………………………………………………………..

**Author's note:** I originally had Ron and Hermione on heir honeymoon in this chapter, but the whole thing didn't gel well, so I scrapped it. So, it has begun. And Morgan, what will happen to her and what does Harry think? Will Neville live to tell his tale?

Next chapter is cheerfully titled: Heartbreak.

This chapter was really hard for me to write, and I'm not satisfied, but at this crazy hour in the morning, I'm not complaining. Maybe I'll make some changes later if I have the energy to do so.

Whoever reads this story, please review. And no flames this time round, please. Normally I wouldn't mind, but now I'm PMSing like crazy and am liable to burst into tears if I read anything negative about my story…:-(


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